The Lone Crusader
by Ryden and Xephfyre
Summary: Witness the tale of a young warrior as he aspires to follow in the footsteps of his father as a legendary crusader, and follow his epic journey of love, betrayal, and revenge. A massive crossover of ideas set in the MS universe.
1. Dawn of a New Day

Disclaimer: Don't own nothing, 'cept for the cast I created for the fic.

A/N: While the events in this fic may be fictional, they are based on real characters, or in the main character's case, future characters, within Maple. My ID in MapleSEA is Bahamut3173 in the world Aquila, so if you want to get in touch with me just type in that search function. As of this moment I'm a level 40 spearman.

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Chapter 1: Dawn of a New Day

Meet Ryden, a not-so-ordinary beginner with great dreams of becoming a crusader one day. His aspiration and determination were further fuelled by the fact that his father had been a Crusader once, before he died honorably in battle against a group of Crimson Balrogs. They had lived in Victoria Island close to Ellinia when Ryden had been born, but ever since his father's death his mother had migrated to Maple Island, to raise her only child alone.

Ryden's father was a powerful Crusader, no doubt, but the infusion of his mother's genes, which came from an extremely intelligent Priestess, gave Ryden a unique combination of a warrior's brute strength and a wizard's intellect. It was this that made Ryden stand out from the other beginners in Maple Island, and his mother was extremely proud of him for this.

Of course, this had also made him widely feared and respected, almost worshipped by the Beginner population of Maple Island, though Ryden had inherited his father's kind and noble spirit. Rather, it was his ancestry, skills and exploits that made him the talk of the town, and whenever he entered Amherst or Southperry, traffic would typically stop and eyes would turn in his direction.

The fame made Ryden terribly insecure and self-conscious, and it was rather unbecoming of a warrior. Or even a magician! Whenever Ryden would come home to Mushroom Town after a long day of training, he would collapse on his bed with an exasperated look on his face.

His mother would ask him what was wrong, and he would answer that he was sick and tired of stopping traffic everywhere he went and having to endure stares of awe wherever he goes.

Ryden's mother would then sigh and tell him that it's just natural for natives of Maple Island to worship outsiders like gods; the environment in Victoria Island is much harsher than that of Maple Island, leading to much stronger adaptations for survival, and apparently to the native population of Maple Island, powerful individuals like herself who migrated here always gave birth to powerful progenies like Ryden.

Ryden would then turn over on the bed and lie on his stomach, mumbling into his pillow that he just wants to be able to fade into the background for once…

His mother would then jokingly remark that with all his fame he would make a terrible thief before affectionately patting him on the head and leaving the room.

But that was when Ryden was just level 3.

After several months of hard training Ryden was now level 9, and by now he had gotten used to the near-worship that he received on Maple Island. His mother knew that he would soon be leaving for Victoria Island. She knew that there was nothing she could do to stop him, but at the very least he could continue the legacy of his father.

Ryden, like his father, had a certain fondness for dark-colored clothing, and so he was typically clad in a grey t-shirt, blue jean shorts and dark leather sandals. Underneath the fringe of his disheveled hair he wore a black headband, a gift from Maria after he delivered her letter to Lucas. He also carried a sword, which in hands like his became less of a weapon and more of an extension of his arm. A deadly extension.

Right now Ryden was at Southperry, on one of his regular potion restocks. He had recently talked with Biggs and was currently on the hunt for some monster remains. He had already amassed quite an amount of blue snail shells, one that would certainly impress Biggs, and all he had left to collect were a couple of Orange Mushroom caps.

He passed by Mai at the split-road, and he nodded in greeting. Mai inclined her head in return, and Ryden asked her if she had seen any of the elusive orange mushrooms.

"I think I saw one darting into the forest over there." Mai pointed out to one of the many signs that said 'Danger', indicating that the zone beyond was not to be trifled with. Generally, only the bravest of warriors-to-be and the quickest of bowmen-to-be went in, and Ryden was definitely one of them.

He thanked his trainer for the information and quickly entered the forest, intent on hunting down the elusive mushrooms and getting that razor from Biggs. He had taken only a dozen steps when the bushes to his right rustled suddenly.

Ryden knew what this meant and he immediately halted in his tracks. The orange mushroom that had been in hiding burst out from behind its cover, charging straight forward and flinging itself at Ryden…

… Or rather, where Ryden would have been if he had kept on walking. Instead, the mushroom's target was several yards behind where it had thought it would be, and it barely had time to process its error before Ryden swiftly stepped forward and drove the blade of his sword between the mushroom's eyes.

The brain-dead mushroom flopped a bit like a dead chicken on his blade for a few seconds before it finally shuddered and lay still. Ryden pulled his sword out of the mushroom's body and flicked the blood off onto the ground before sheathing it smoothly. He reached down to the mushroom's corpse and pried the cap off the body, stuffing it in his pack.

_Just two more to go…_ Ryden thought to himself as he dusted off his hands and got back onto his feet. He was about to depart from the forest in search of more mushrooms to hunt down when a shill scream of terror made him freeze on the spot.

As mentioned earlier, only budding warriors and bowmen came in here and they usually knew what they were getting into so they came out more or less intact, albeit a bit battered. But the high-pitched scream suggested that whoever the screamer was, he or she _definitely_ didn't know what they were getting themselves into, and most definitely was getting his or her ass kicked right now.

The scream repeated itself again, a desperate cry for help. Ryden was instantly moving, running in the direction of the scream.

_Definitely a she…_ Ryden thought to himself as another yell permeated the forest. After several seconds of running Ryden finally came to a clearing, where three orange mushrooms had cornered a shaking girl against a tree trunk. The girl was clad in a bright yellow t-shirt, a red mini-skirt and red rubber boots, and a brown skullcap held down her unruly brown hair. She clutched a one-handed axe in a quivering grip with scrawny arms, and her eyes were wide with fear, darting from one mushroom to another. Her entire body was shaking with fright, and she was biting into her bottom lip with such force that it had already started to bleed.

The mushrooms started to advance, slowly, but the girl screamed and swung her axe wildly, slashing at the air in front of her and hitting none of the mushrooms. The mushrooms backed away slightly before they resumed their advance, and Ryden knew it was only a matter of time before the girl crumbled.

He quickly stepped forward and slashed one of the mushrooms across its back. The girl's assailants whirled around, stunned at this new threat, as the slashed mushroom reeled and attempted to recover from Ryden's attack.

The girl's eyes grew even wider, but this time with awe, as she finally caught sight of her rescuer. Ryden was oblivious to her stare as he concentrated on killing the mushrooms. As one attempted to bulldoze him with its broad body, Ryden leapt over the clumsy attack and retaliated the moment he touched the ground. The mushroom's body landed on the ground in two neatly severed halves, but unfortunately Ryden had split it down the middle, rendering its cap unsalvageable. The other two did the only thing mushrooms knew how to do; they both rushed him, attempting to body slam him into oblivion.

The one that he had slashed across the back was already weak from his attack, and it only took a quick thrust into its body to end its pitiful life. The last mushroom paused as it witnessed the death of its kin, and it stared at Ryden for a couple of seconds, filled with fear.

Ryden glared at the mushroom before uttering a small "Boo."

The mushroom practically squeaked in fright before taking off into the forest. Ryden eyed its retreating figure before hefting a handful of snail shells and tossing it at the fleeing mushroom.

The shells struck dead on, and the mushroom fell over dead before it had gotten further than ten meters. Ryden smirked and placed the remaining shells back in his pack. He bent down over the corpse of the nearest mushroom to pry off its cap when a hesitant mumble made him suddenly remember the girl he had saved.

He turned towards her and was able to get a clearer look at her face. Her looks weren't exactly the most beautiful he had ever seen, but she definitely had striking features. She had a perfectly oval face, porcelain complexion, and a cute little upturned nose, though she appeared to be a little bit skinny.

"Huh?" Ryden asked. He was certain the girl was trying to say something but apparently her voice was too soft for him to hear her.

"Thank you! For saving my life." The girl gasped out, then was seemingly taken aback that she had even spoken.

Ryden calmly turned back to the mushroom's dead body and pried the cap off, stuffing it in his pack. "Not a problem."

He walked over to where the second mushroom's body lay and pried its cap off as well. _Finally I can get that razor…_ Ryden thought to himself. He passed by the clearing and noticed the girl staring at him in awe again.

"Can I help you?" Ryden said in a bored tone. Probably just another fangirl…

"I'm sorry for staring, but you're Ryden, aren't you? Son of the priestess Ceil?" The girl asked. Ryden nodded, mildly surprised; it sounded like she was trying to be his friend instead of just another worshipper.

"My name's Astella. Thank you again for saving me." The girl smiled sweetly at him, and Ryden felt obliged to smile back. Ever the gentleman, he offered to escort her out of the forest.

Astella thanked him profusely for the favor, and she scurried behind him as they left the forest together. As they re-entered the split road, Astella thanked him again.

"No problem, really. I was hunting for mushrooms anyway. So, what were you doing in there in the first place? I can tell from your build that you're definitely not aiming to be a warrior or a bowman." Ryden cocked his head quizzically at her.

Astella's face turned beet red, obviously embarrassed, and she mumbled that her brother had remarked that forests like these were easy training. Ryden nearly fell over from shock; those forests were filled with dangerous creatures!

"Either your brother's a level 9 warrior-to-be, or he was just bullshitting you. Those forests are dangerous!" Ryden sighed. "What's your level?"

"Four." Astella said meekly. She had started playing with the hem of her skirt, obviously nervous about talking face-to-face with the most famous beginner on Maple Island.

"Magician?" Surprised at Ryden's seemingly mind reading, she could only nod.

It was obvious enough to Ryden's keen eye. She definitely didn't have the build to be a warrior or a bowman, and she didn't maneuver lithely or gracefully enough to be a thief, so the only thing she could be was a budding magician.

"You'd better stick with the snails, Astella. Whatever you do, don't listen to your brother's advice unless it involves snails. Those orange mushrooms could kill you." Ryden told her sternly. Astella nodded timidly. Ryden was about to leave for Southperry when Astella called out to him again.

"Umm… what's your level?" She asked him. Ryden told her that his level was high enough that he'd be out of Maple Island within a week. He left for Southperry without noticing the determined look on Astella's face. She promised herself that she would be strong like him one day, and she would find him on Victoria Island and prove herself to him.

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Over the next several days Ryden had been training intensively, the end of his days in Maple Island his incentive to train even harder than usual. Ever since his meeting with Astella, Ryden had been seeing more and more of the budding magician as the days passed. Eventually the budding warrior had warmed up to the pleasant if somewhat timid mage-to-be, and they became fast friends. Ryden was Astella's guide to survival in the dangerous forests, and Astella was Ryden's pillar of friendly support that he clung on to for sanity in the sea of _in_sanity that was Maple Island's Beginners' near mindless worship of him. (Although he had gotten slightly used to it, too much of it was unnerving and bad for his brain.)

At last, it was Ryden's final day on Maple Island. He double-checked his pack to make sure everything was there; yes, his stock of potions was full and his new shiny razor was sitting comfortably in a side compartment.

He hefted his pack onto his shoulder and left his bedroom. His mother was waiting for him at the door.

Ryden stepped over and allowed his mother to kiss him on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, son." She said, her voice breaking.

Ryden smiled to his mother and gave her a quick hug. "I'll be all right, mom. Don't worry about me. If I ever have any kids I'll send them back here for you to raise." He jokingly remarked.

Ceil laughed and said that would be great. Ryden bade his mother farewell and left his house, heading for Southperry.

Several minutes later he was purchasing his ticket onto the boat from Shanks when he heard a female voice calling his name.

"Ryden! RYDEN!" Ryden turned around to see Astella running towards him, holding a package in her hands.

Astella came to a halt in front of him, panting and gasping for breath.

"Astella? What is it?" Ryden asked, noticing that she was holding onto the brown package in her hands very tightly.

The magician-to-be finally caught her breath, and she looked up at Ryden before handing him the package. Ryden looked at her, puzzled, before she explained everything to him.

"It's a thank-you gift. For saving me the other day." She told him.

"I'm sorry Astella, but I can't accept this. Warriors don't…" Ryden started to protest, but Astella was not to be denied.

"Just take it, please! I'll feel bad if you don't." She pouted, and Ryden just couldn't resist the power of those puppy-dog eyes of hers.

"Oh all right, I'll take it." Ryden relieved her of the package and placed it in his pack.

"So… I guess this is good-bye?" Astella asked.

"It isn't really good-bye… with any luck, you'll run into me on Victoria Island. But for now… yeah, it's good-bye." Ryden was taken aback as Astella's lip started quivering for a split-second before she threw herself onto him with a bone-crushing hug.

Ryden let out a loud "Oof!" but he made no move to dislodge her, as she held on to him even tighter.

After several seconds she released him and murmured, "I'm gonna miss you, Ryden. I won't forget you. Once I get to Victoria Island, I'll find you."

Ryden grinned and replied, "You do just that. Right now I've got a ship to board."

The female mage-to-be nodded and reluctantly stepped back. Unfortunately Ryden didn't realize the effect he was having on the poor girl; he saw her as just a close friend whom he had saved from orange mushrooms, but to Astella, he was the love of her life.

As Ryden boarded the ship, he turned back and waved goodbye to his friend. Astella held back tears as she waved back and forced a smile, watching the ship depart from the dock and taking her love with it.

After several hours of staring at the empty patch of sky where the ship used to be, Astella picked up her hand axe and headed off to the split-road, intent on asking Mai to start further intensive training for her.

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A/N: Jus to let you guys know, naming the main character of this story after a level 30 bow was _not_ intentional; I was just scrolling through a list of the weapons in and suddenly I was like "What the, Ryden is a bow!?" Anyway, here are the credits that go to the characters that appeared in this chapter.

Ryden - Based on the Fighter that my Spearman should have become, and basing his name on the name of my 'mule' thief HellRyder.

Astella - Based on a level 48 Cleric whose ID is Aquila is 'Astera'. I don't recommend you try adding her to your buddy list; she's very inactive.

Ceil - Completely original character; I don't have any magician friends who have reached 3rd job yet.


	2. HellRyder

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the plot and the cast. Everything else belongs to Wizet, Asiasoft, etc.

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A/N: Good to know that the story is being well-received, I hope this chapter meets your expectations as well! This chapter revolves around Ryden becoming a warrior, and cementing the foundation of his life in Victoria Island. Also, he encounters an old friend...

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Chapter 2: HellRyder

"So you want to be a warrior, huh?" The tribally dressed dark-skinned man known as Dances with Balrog asked Ryden.

"Yes, Sir." Ryden replied respectfully, keeping himself down on one knee and bowing his head respectfully to the Chief of Perion.

Dances with Balrog scrutinized Ryden carefully for several seconds, before breaking out in a deep, throaty laugh.

"Good, good! I knew I recognized the spirit of a warrior within you the moment you stepped inside this chamber! Say, you look kind of familiar. Who was your father again?"

"Dracon, Sir. I believe you knew him as the 'Almost-Dragon-Knight'?" Ryden said.

"Ah, yes! Now I remember him. His friends used to nickname him Bahamut, the King of Dragons. An astounding Dragon Knight, he would have become, had he chosen the path of the spearman instead of the fighter."

Ryden knew all of this; during his spare time at home back on Maple Island his mother used to regale him with tales of his father and his bravery. Apparently Dracon had built up quite a reputation as a dragon-slayer, and Dances with Balrog – no, the whole of Perion expected 'Bahamut' to become a Dragon Knight. Imagine, to the entire town's surprise when Dracon chose the path as the Fighter instead of the Spearman. Apparently Dracon was something of a loner, and the first person to ever coax him to join a hunting party was a promising Cleric and his future wife, Ceil.

"So, I take it that you want to become a Crusader, like your father?" Dances with Balrog asked Ryden.

The son of Dracon nodded his head, and Dances with Balrog's countenance took on a more serious expression.

"All right, then we shall begin the ceremony. Just kneel down in this circle of power here…" Dances with Balrog drew a circle in the air, murmuring an incantation, and suddenly a circle of light appeared on the chamber floor. Ryden followed his instructions and knelt down within the circle, its outline flaring with power as he stepped inside.

Dances with Balrog continued muttering incantations under his breath until he suddenly stopped, got to his feet, drew in a deep breath and, thrusting out both palms in Ryden's direction, let out a mighty "Haaaaaaap!!!"

Twin red beams shot out of his palms and impacted against Ryden, but to the budding warrior's surprise he felt no pain; rather, an incredible rush of strength filled him, and he felt much sturdier than before.

The beams ceased to emit from Dances with Balrog's palms, and he exhaled deeply before sitting back down on his mat.

"I have just transferred some of my power to you. Ryden, son of Dracon, you are now officially a warrior, one of the noble defenders of Victoria Island and a citizen of Perion. Welcome to the club." The chief warrior stated with a wide grin on his face. He handed a thick book to Ryden, indicating that it was a skill book for all starting warriors, and that he should put the skills taught by the book to good use.

Ryden nodded his thanks and, with a reverent bow, left the chamber. As he exited the building and entered the cold, mountainous climate of Perion, he opened the skill book and browsed through the various techniques featured in it. Apparently he was currently limited to increasing a skill by only one level, and he scanned through the various abilities before one caught his eye. This 'Improving HP Recovery' could come in handy in the long term…

Ryden looked through it, thoroughly reading through the techniques and following the exercises that taught him how to allow his wounds to heal faster. Once he had finished he briefly looked himself over, and he noted with pleasure that the small scratches he had taken from the snails on the way here were now gone. Ryden snapped the book shut and, after a few minutes at the weapon shop buying a rusty set of armor (He didn't need a new weapon because Astella's good-bye gift to him was a polished Longsword), he left for Perion's Street Corner to start training up.

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Five months from then Ryden had earned himself quite a name for himself in Perion. Warriors who had reached their 2nd or 3rd job advancement referred to him as the 'SuperNoob', but among his circle of friends who were around his level, he was known as HellRyder, for he had a tendency to just charge his way through hordes of monsters as if he was on a roller coaster ride from hell. Hence, the nickname. 

Speaking of his immediate circle of friends, it became apparent that Ryden hadn't inherited his father's loner trait; instead, he was more sociable, like his mother, and he made quite a few friends during his training.

One of his closer friends was an amiable warrior named Korsair, who told him that he aspired to be a Dragon Knight one day. In their earlier levels Ryden and Korsair were often seen tag-teaming against the Axe Stumps at Perion Street corner, but as Ryden neared level 15 he began to see less and less of the aspiring Spearman. It was quite the contrary for his other, current best friend – a friendly and compliant but somewhat naïve magician.

When he had first met Roxi it had been at Ellinia's Slime Tree, when they were both experience level 13. At first she had struck him as just another magician; one who was used to being able to one-hit-kill Slimes from a distance and made a hobby out of kill-stealing warriors like him.

It came as a surprise when he realized that she was quite pleasant and actually disliked kill-stealing people in general. As Ryden passed level 15 he started to train often with Roxi, and more than half the time they were together as part of a hunting party.

Another one of Ryden's friends, whom he hardly saw nowadays, was a flirtatious magician who loved to fraternize with members of the opposite sex. In fact, she had once asked if he wouldn't mind being her boyfriend; Ryden, thoroughly embarrassed, politely declined the offer, the memory of a certain girl nagging at his mind.

It had been so long since he had seen… what was her name again? Every time Ryden tried to recall her he was unable to put his finger on her name. All he remembered was that he had met her on Maple Island, but the life he led on that floating piece of land seemed like a scattered dream now – almost as if someone else had lived that life instead of himself.

Ryden was now waiting outside Ellinia's Slime Tree for Roxi; it had become almost a regular schedule for them to meet outside the tree dungeon early in the morning and keep training until the evening where they both had to depart for their respective hometowns. It was almost an unspoken agreement that one could start training early if the other was late, and Ryden told himself that he would wait for only one more minute before he started without her.

A minute passed, and there was still no sign of his friend. Ryden sighed, and entered the tree dungeon by himself. His shiny Steel Corporal set stood out like a sore thumb against the bright green of the tree's inner dungeon, and the Slimes that could see him immediately rushed towards him, intent on pummeling the interloper into unconsciousness.

But at experience level 18, Ryden had no problems in dealing with such monsters. He slashed at the closest Slime with a mighty blow from his saber, and it died with a single strike. Shouldering his way past another slime with his Steel Shield, he leapt over the others that tried to run into him, and landing behind them he spun around and wound his arm backwards for a split-second, gathering strength for a deadly Power Strike.

His blade blurred forward and was about to slay the Slime that was charging him when a sudden flash of light flared out from towards his right. An azure bolt of energy impacted against the side of the Slime before his saber could connect, and the locomotive bag of gel withered and collapsed within itself.

Ryden immediately knew it was a magician that _wasn't_ Roxi, so he promptly rounded on the KS-er with a furious look on his face.

The KS-er in question was a girl with messy brown hair dressed in level 10 magician clothing, and she looked oddly familiar. This didn't dissuade Ryden one bit however, and he growled out, "Hey, that was mine. Go KS somebody else, mage. We warriors already have it tough enough already."

To Ryden's surprise the girl gasped and looked at him in wonder. "Ryden, don't recognize me? It's me, Astella!"

Now it was Ryden's turn to gape, as he stared at his past that was standing right in front of him. He continued to gawk before uttering a small "Wow."

Astella blushed and started fiddling with her hardwood wand. Ryden looked her over once again, and noticed that she had developed very much since he had last seen her on Maple Island.

Her body was no longer skinny; instead she now possessed a slim, ethereal build that just radiated magical power. Her presence didn't feel as strong as Roxi's, but that was probably attributed to her lower level. She still retained her 'cutie' look, but seemed more mature.

"It's been a while, Astella. What are you doing here?" Ryden asked as soon as he managed to close his mouth and articulate coherent words.

The magician smiled and said, "I've been looking for you, duh! I heard that the Slime Tree was a good training spot for people who had just made their job advancement, so I figured I'd find you here!"

Ryden opened his mouth to reply that she'd probably have come here anyway when a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Hey HellRyder!" The swordsman turned his head in the direction of the voice and was greeted by the familiar sight of Roxi, running towards him and clad in brand new level 15 equips. She also clutched a Sapphire Staff in hands that were currently only just able to wield it. Roxi was now experience level 15, three levels behind Ryden only due to a warrior's naturally fast leveling rate at the start.

"Roxi, it's about time you got here." Ryden remarked good-naturedly as Roxi glanced at Astella.

"Who's this?" She asked.

"Oh, sorry. I completely forgot about introductions. Roxi, Astella. And vice versa." Roxi chuckled at her friend's wit while Astella merely smiled sweetly and extended a hand to Roxi, who grasped it and shook it firmly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Roxi. I'm Ryden's old friend from Maple Island." Roxi smiled back and introduced herself as well.

The rest of the day was pretty much the same for Ryden and Roxi; endless slaughtering of Slimes at the tree dungeon, except for one addition to their party.

Astella may have been lower-leveled than them, but she was no hindrance to the party; in fact, having a third person in the party wasn't so bad. There were more people to cover territory, less worries about kill-stealers, and if anybody tried to muscle their way into their spot they could join up and drive the KS-er away.

The rate at which they gained EXP had increased noticeably too. Within half the day Ryden had gone up one level, and Roxi was well on her way to the next. Astella had benefited the most, though; she was boosted up two levels with the help of her higher-leveled friends.

By the end of the day Ryden was thoroughly satisfied with his new mob skill, Slash Blast – according to the skill book it was a devastating skill that allowed him to slash at the ground or at a monster and deliver a powerful shockwave of energy that hit all surrounding enemies. At its current skill level it also weakened his damage to each individual monster, but Ryden didn't mind much; he was tired of having to slash at each individual monster each time he wanted to kill a mob, and now he could save himself the trouble.

His Power Strike was also half-mastered, now at Skill Level 10, and with a maxed-out Improving HP Increase, his HP was far higher than either Roxi's or Astella's, standing at a formidable 1000+ points. Contrary to his earlier thoughts he didn't find the Improving HP Recovery skill very useful; the Relaxer that Pio made for him back on Maple Island was so much better at recovering health.

Roxi wasn't as sturdy as her warrior friend, but she made up for it with highly superior amounts of mana and was now attempting to master the first level of Magic Claw. Astella was pretty much a slightly weaker version of Roxi; she was still attempting to master Improving Max MP Increase.

Once the sun had set the three left the tree dungeon, thoroughly exhausted but satisfied with the rate at which they had gained experience. Ryden bade goodbye to his two friends at the north gate of Ellinia, heading off back to Perion, while Roxi and Astella stayed behind in the tree village.

As Ryden left through the gates, Roxi turned to Astella with a small grin on her face.

"You like him, don't you?" Roxi asked her, barely able to keep the smile out of her voice. Astella blushed furiously and muttered that she and Ryden were only friends.

Roxi snorted and replied, "Yeah right, and we're worst enemies. Come on, 'Stella, you can tell me. It's obvious enough, judging from the dreamy way you look at him."

The flustered magician's blush turned an even deeper shade of crimson as she muttered something unintelligible and dashed off back into the town. Roxi chuckled and shook her head.

Ryden could be so clueless sometimes…

* * *

Ryden dragged his heavy backpack to Arturo's potion shop on one of the higher ledges of the Perion plateu. Dropping bag onto the counter, he yanked off the straps holding down the cover and started emptying out whatsoever loots he had obtained during the afternoon's hunting session. Arturo took a quick check on the items, and then handed him a thick wad of meso notes and a carton of potions.

"Good time hunting?" asked the potioner, looking up from his latest stew brewing in the large cauldron behind the counter.

"You could say so," came the reply.

"You're growing fast," said Arturo, stepping out of the counter, "You going to join a guild anytime soon?"

_Guild..._ Ryden held onto that word for a few moments. He had heard around that one particular guild was fast rising in power. Through strategic mergers, assasinations, blackmail, control over the arms market and vigorous recruitment campaigns, they had become the most powerful faction in less than half a year. This caused other guilds to take drastic actions, which included forging alliances and becoming increasingly hostile towards other guilds.

"I can get you into several local guilds here in Perion. Priviledge of the monopoly over the potions market at these parts you could call it," teased Arturo, with a hint of mischief in his eye.

Ryden grabbed his now-empty backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He then retreated into his own private room which he rented at the back of the shop.

"I'll consider your offer."

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A/N: Now, for the credits to the new characters that were mentioned in this chapter...

Korsair: Based on a level 20 friend of mine whose job I can't remember which one it was. His ID is HolyKorsair; he's very inactive as well.

Roxi: Based on a level 35 Cleric friend of mine. Her ID is magicroxmi, but I think her buddy list is full at the moment.


	3. Path of the Fighter

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

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A/N: To meet with Kal Ancalas' expectations, this chapter will be at least twice or 1.5 times as long as the previous chapter. Revelations abound in this chapter, along with significant advancement in the plotline as well as our main character. By the way, here's a little info for you. Reading plus Reviewing equals Greater chance of next chapter coming out sooner. So if you want the story to progress more rapidly, please do leave a review as you finish reading each chapter; it's not exactly the Chief's policy to wait for reviews, but the Master refuses to write a story that hardly gains any reviews. So, in short as the Master would put it, 'Review review review review review'. Trust me, it helps with the updating! (much like Kal Ancalas) 

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Chapter 3: Path of the Fighter

It was when Ryden and Roxi were both level 23 when they received their first guild invitation, and though Roxi had accepted it on the spot, Ryden had taken quite a while to consider. They hadn't seen much of Astella; she was probably having intensive training somewhere out there anyway.

They were both heading for the Sleepywood dungeon through Perion's Deep Valley. Ryden had the idea that they take a 'shortcut' through the Deep Valley, but he was currently regretting his decision.

Wild boars, fire boars and Dark Axe stumps had congregated under the rocky outcropping they were using to hide above them, and the boars were leaping up and down, attempting to reach their hiding prey.

The sheer number of monsters that were camping under the outcropping made jumping off a suicidal decision; Roxi wouldn't last more than five seconds, and sturdy as Ryden was for his level, even he had a limit as to how much of a beating he could take.

"So HellRyder, any more bright ideas?" Roxi asked skeptically, keeping an eye on the monsters that were below them.

"Got any return scrolls?" Roxi rifled through her pack, but came up empty. Ryden cursed. He contemplated jumping down and stunning the monsters with Slash Blast while making an escape, but he quickly discarded the thought; it would only lead to a quicker death. There were so many monsters that even he couldn't nail them all with his mob skill, and he would draining himself of his HP at the same time.

Well, it looked like they were stuck there. The best they could hope for was that the monsters would get bored and would go pursue some other prey. At this time of day the road to the dungeon was mostly empty; all the 2nd jobbers would have arrived inside the dungeon by now. Only the occasional latecomer would pass by on his or her way to Sleepywood, but they were usually too 'busy' or 'in a hurry' to help a couple of level 20-ers.

Suddenly a pair of kumbis came out of nowhere and hit a fire boar. The flames that wreathed the creature immediately extinguished as the boar died with a pained cry. More stars followed in the signature double-shot manner of a Lucky Seven attack, and more monsters died.

Another Lucky Seven, and a wild boar died. Two stars, and a Dark Axe stump toppled over onto its side, dead. Whoever was throwing the stars continued on with a string of Lucky Sevens, and another monster died. And another. And another. And another.

Within seconds the entire horde that had congregated below them had been completely wiped out, and monster remains littered the ground. A black blur shot past below them, gathering up the remains, and suddenly it stopped, revealing a black-clad assassin that was sporting a Maple Kandayo.

"Hey, sin! Thanks!" Ryden called out as he jumped down from the outcropping with Roxi.

"Don't mention it. I've got barely anything to do anyway. Thought I'd go traveling a bit." The assassin replied. "What are guys your level doing here? The monsters here are too high leveled for you."

Ryden bristled slightly at the indirect 'noob' remark, but he brushed it off and said, "We're trying to get to the Sleepywood dungeon, and I thought we could take the Perion route. Thanks for helping us, uhh…" Ryden tried to read the stranger's ID tag, but he couldn't make much out of the 'mrth1ef' that was there.

"It stands for Mr. Thief." The assassin replied with a grin on his face.

"Right, Mr. Thief… Don't you have a nickname or something? Mr. Thief sounds way too formal."

The assassin remained silent for a second before he said, "My friends call me Merth."

Ryden beamed. "So, Merth! How about helping us get to Sleepywood?"

The level 47 assassin didn't have anything better to do, so he agreed to escort them there. Ryden and Roxi stuck close together while they let Merth move ahead, clearing out the various boars and stumps that dotted the path ahead of them.

Boar teeth and firewood pieces littered the ground, as well as several bronze and gold coins and the occasional wad of cash that a fire boar dropped. Merth didn't seem to need the items as he kept dashing ahead once he had slain a monster, so Ryden and Roxi simply picked up the items that were left in the assassin's wake and followed behind him.

* * *

Within minutes they were at the entrance to the dungeon, and Merth continued to guide them to Sleepywood. He cut a swathe through the groups of mushrooms and stumps that blocked the way to the forest-village, and the two followed close behind him.

They were approaching the gates to Sleepywood when Merth asked Ryden, "Who was your father?"

Ryden was surprised at the sudden question, but he answered anyway. "Dracon, otherwise known to his friends as 'Bahamut'. Why?"

Merth kept quiet for a couple of seconds. Finally he spoke, "And your mother is the Priestess Ceil?"

They had just entered the town, and Ryden stopped in his tracks right at the gate. "How do you know those names?"

"My parents were close friends with them. In fact, so close that when you were born we almost became cousins. It came as quite a blow when I heard Dracon had died; he and I were like uncle and nephew. You've actually changed a lot since I last saw you; the first and last time I saw you was when you were just a mere baby, in your mother's arms, as she was leaving for Maple Island." Merth finished explaining.

Ryden was almost speechless. So this level forty-seven assassin was pretty much the equivalent of his cousin? He quickly got over his surprise; his mother had never really told him much of her life outside of Maple Island, so he'd better get used to surprises like this.

"I see." Ryden finally managed to articulate.

Merth fished around in his pocket and pulled out two gilded cards. "Here, an invitation to my guild. One for each of you."

Roxi immediately snatched the first card out of Merth's hand, screaming in joy as she read the details on the card. She grabbed at Ryden's arm just as he was reaching out to take the second invitation from Merth, causing him to nearly lose his grip on the card.

"Oh my god Ryden, his guild is Last Hope! It's like, the best guild out there! It's got the largest range of members, and people from all kinds of jobs! Ryden, we _have_ to accept this invitation!" Roxi almost babbled out, as Ryden slowly wrenched his hand out of her vice grip and rubbed his sore wrist.

He looked at Merth, who had raised an eyebrow expectantly at him, but Ryden wasn't too sure about this. There was still someone else…

"Do you have any other invitations?" He asked.

Roxi giggled briefly before piping up, "You're thinking about Astella, aren't you?"

Ryden's face turned crimson with embarrassment as he furiously muttered denials in grating voice before looking at Merth.

The assassin spread his arms wide with his hands empty, saying, "Sorry, those two were the last ones I had. I'll need to go back to HQ to get more of them."

"I'll consider it. There's still someone else…" The swordsman replied.

"No problem, take your time. Roxi?" Merth turned to the magician, who fervently nodded her head, beaming wide with the idea of joining one of the most famous guilds on Victoria Island.

"Well then, I'll bring you over to HQ later for registration. Ryden, I would appreciate it if you informed us of your decision to join us sooner rather than later." Ryden nodded as Merth approached the Ant Tunnel's entrance with Roxi. Roxi looked at him expectantly, but Ryden told them that he was tired and wanted to get a bit of rest before joining them. The magician nodded and entered the dungeon with Merth.

The warrior climbed up the rope ladders leading to the higher levels of Sleepywood, and checked in at the hotel's regular sauna. As he entered the steam-filled room, he immediately felt more relaxed, and he pulled out his Relaxer and lay down on it. Currently he was the only one in the room, but he figured someone else would be coming in soon enough. He closed his eyes and was about to doze off to sleep when he heard the door to the sauna creak open.

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear…_ Ryden thought to himself humorously as he saw Astella enter the sauna. Said magician looked around for a moment before catching sight of Ryden lying down on his Relaxer, and she grinned before heading over.

"Hey Ryden!" Astella greeted him as she pulled out her own Relaxer and lay down next to him.

"Hi 'Stella. How's it going?" Ryden kept an eye open as he peered out at her from the corner of said eye.

"Oh, rapid progress. I'm already level twenty-one. You?" Ryden gawked; it had been only weeks since their training session at the Slime Tree, and Astella had advanced six levels since then? She'd surpass him in no time.

"Twenty-three. You're not that far off, you know. By the way, those robes look good on you." Ryden said, referring to the new level 20 magician equips she was currently wearing.

Astella blushed slightly as she thanked Ryden for the compliment, and said that the Red Sergeant set he was wearing didn't look so bad on him either.

"So Astella, got any plans to join a guild?" Ryden finally asked.

"I don't think so. I once got an invitation from this shadily dressed wizard; he invited me to join a guild called 'Necropolis'. I don't know…"

Ryden told her about the invitation to join Last Hope, and asked if she wanted to join as well.

"Well, you should join, Ryden. You don't need to wait for me, I'm not sure if I even want to join a guild." Astella finally decided.

"I see… Well, Roxi's waiting for me inside the Ant Tunnel. I've got to get going. Bye 'Stella." Ryden got up from his Relaxer, folded it up and placed it inside his pack. Astella bade him goodbye as she watched him leave the sauna, and laid back on her own Relaxer as the door to the sauna swung closed.

She would have to tell him some day…

* * *

For the next few months Ryden and Roxi had booked the first section of the Ant Tunnel, much to the frustration of other level 20-ers that wanted to train there. They didn't venture any further than the Horny Mushrooms, and though the occasional Zombie Mushroom would pop up, Ryden and Roxi would just tag-team against it and kill it without much of a hassle.

Merth wouldn't have gained much out of joining them there; Horny Mushrooms were like cannon fodder to an assassin of his level, but he told them that if they ever needed to reach him he could be found at the Burnt Land of Perion's Deep Valley.

And so Ryden trained with Roxi at the Ant Tunnel, slaughtering Horny Mushrooms with a determination matched by few. His leveling rate, as Dances with Balrog once remarked, was phenomenal even for a warrior. Even Roxi had trouble keeping up, and she was now lagging behind by three levels, even though by all rights a magician at her level should have caught up with a warrior of his level ages ago.

Ryden was now level 28 and Roxi, level 25, and they were still on their mushroom killing spree in the ant tunnel. Ryden had decided to wait until he had made his 2nd job advancement before joining Last Hope, and for now he had to endure Roxi's excited babblings about the things that have been happening in the guild.

"… and one of the guild members just got jumped in Orbis Tower! Luckily other guild members were nearby to help him; that magician wouldn't have lasted a second against that gang of thieves!" Roxi continued spouting out guild news as Ryden concentrated on killing mushrooms, half-listening to her.

"Mm hmm." Ryden merely muttered as he slew another horny mushroom with a Power Strike from his Eloon. Another came charging at him, and he shrugged off its blow with his red triangular shield before retaliating with a Slash Blast, withering several other mushrooms that were close by and obliterating the one that his sword had struck.

"Ryden, are you even listening to me?" Roxi asked exasperatedly as she jumped up onto the rope ladder that led up to the upper section of the Ant Tunnel and hung there, looking at her friend.

"Of course I am. Now, what were you talking about again?" Ryden said absent-mindedly, jumping over a mushroom and striking at its cap as he passed over it. Roxi sweat-dropped and sighed in annoyance.

"Never mind Ryden. I don't think you even know that our guild's rival, Necropolis, had been attacking our members regularly." The words 'Necropolis' and 'rival' distracted Ryden enough that he failed to notice the mushroom barreling up towards him, and when he finally registered it its horns were inches from his face. He barely brought up his shield in time to deflect the worst of the blow, but it still sent him sprawling.

The moment he hit the ground he flipped back up onto his feet, and he retaliated with a viscous Power Strike that cleaved the offending mushroom in half. The problem solved, he jumped up onto another rope ladder, next to Roxi, and asked, "Wait, so the guild that invited Astella to join them is our rival?"

Roxi looked at him, confused, and Ryden winced inwardly. He had never told Roxi about Astella' guild invitation, so he explained everything to her.

"I see…" Roxi murmured. "You should let her decide which guild she wants to join, Ryden. It doesn't really matter if your guilds oppose, just make sure nobody knows about you two."

Ryden was so deep in thought that he didn't even deny any possible relationship with Astella; in fact, he was even considering one.

Roxi looked at her friend curiously, who was staring off into space with an expression of deep thought. She waved a hand in front of his eyes, and he abruptly snapped back to reality.

"Thinking about her?" Ryden nodded.

"Give me a second here, need to go collect my thoughts…" Ryden climbed up the rope ladder to the upper section and darted out of the Ant Tunnel. Roxi sighed, but at the same time, smiled.

Looks like Ryden was finally catching onto what Astella wanted.

* * *

A couple of weeks later Ryden was on his way back to Perion to inform Dances with Balrog of his progression to level 30. Roxi was now training alone at the Ant Tunnel to catch up with Ryden from her current standing of level 28, but right then all Ryden could think of was making his second job advancement.

To follow in the footsteps of his father.

As he entered Dances with Balrog's chamber, the Chief of Perion looked up from his sitting position to see Dracon's son enter the room.

"Ah, it's you!" Dances with Balrog remarked as Ryden stepped inside. "My, you look much stronger than before! I assume you're here to make the second job advancement?"

"Yes, Sir." Ryden once again replied respectfully, bowing reverently and getting down on one knee.

Dances with Balrog quickly motioned for Ryden to stand up. "There's no need to kneel before me, son of Dracon. If anything, you are ever closer to becoming an equal. The test for the second job advancement is more of a rite of passage than anything else; it signifies that you have come of age. Are you sure you are ready for this?"

"More than ready, Sir. I have waited for this moment my whole life." Dances with Balrog let out a hearty chuckle, impressed at the warrior's determination.

His face took on a more somber expression, as he asked, "It is to follow in your father's footsteps, is it not?"

"More than anything. To continue his legacy." Dances with Balrog nodded in approval at Ryden's statement.

"Then you have my blessing. Go to the West Rocky Mountain, and at the summit you will find the second job test instructor. Give him this letter, it'll tell him all he needs to know to prepare the test." The Chief of Perion handed Ryden a white envelope that was sealed with red wax, and the warrior accepted it gracefully. Bowing once more, he left the chamber.

As the stone doors to the chamber closed, Dances with Balrog felt a familiar presence stirring inside.

"I know you're there. No point hiding yourselves anymore." The dark-skinned warrior seemingly spoke to the air.

The air in question shimmered slightly, and a Really Old magician known to Ellinia as Grendel materialized out of empty space, the invisibility spell deactivated. Dances with Balrog looked up to his ceiling, and out of the shadows the Dark Lord of Kerning City dropped down onto the floor, landing without so much of a whisper.

Dances glanced at his stack of equipment, which was lying in the corner, and Athena Pierce of Henesys emerged from her cover of camouflage, having hidden herself near the immense number of weapons.

"It's not like you three to pay me a simultaneous visit. What gives?" The elder warrior asked with a good-natured smile on his face.

The Dark Lord glanced at the chamber's double-doors, and nodded towards Grendel. The elder magician muttered a quiet incantation, and a small light briefly enveloped the doors before fading away.

"Now there will be no eavesdroppers. I am sorry for all these paranoid precautions, but we can afford no risks." Grendel explained in a weary tone.

"I get that. So what is this visit for again?" Dances asked while getting up from his mat.

"Your swordsman. Ryden. He follows in the footsteps of his father, Dracon." The Dark Lord said in an iron-hard, rasping voice.

"And though that is the path of greatness, it will also bring upon him much suffering." Athena finished for the elder thief, stepping forward and into the square that the Four Wise Men of Victoria Island were forming.

"He is ready for it. That much I can tell. He harbors great determination, to be like his father." Dances stated.

"Yes… and he possesses as much power as he does determination. Power that, if it were to fall under the wrong influences, could bring about the end of us all." Grendel replied.

"He has a good soul. I do not believe that he will be corrupted very easily. He is very much like his father." The elder warrior said.

"Too much faith in your subordinates could make you blind to where their true loyalties may lie, Dances." Athena reminded him. "Although, I do agree with you. I sense the aura of righteousness about him. Very much like Dracon."

"He fights the good fight." The Dark Lord simply said.

"We have received word that he has been given an invitation to one of the major guilds, Last Hope. The rival of Necropolis." Grendel informed him.

"So, this is about Necropolis? That guild of power-hungry necromancer wannabes?" Athena confirmed Dances' suspicions with a nod. "What are they up to now?"

"Nothing drastic, so far. Only the regular street fights that they pick with Last Hope, but intelligence from our spies inside indicate that the guild master may have found a way to manipulate the monsters in our world."

"Which would lead to a massive imbalance of power and place the control of every monster of the world in their hands." Dances finished for Athena. The elder bowlady nodded, and Dances bit back a curse.

"So what are we going to do about this?" The elder warrior asked.

Grendel shook his head, saying, "Currently, our Agents should be able to overpower them. But there have been others that have attained greater strength than our Agents, mind you."

"Who could do that?" roared Dances, "A single Agent is equivalent to a level 500 player! And the highest level player in the server is less than half of that level."

"Dances!" the Dark Lord silenced the battle-hardened warrior. "You're forgetting what happened shortly after Beta Testing."

"Wha-," then it dawned upon Dances with Balrogs, "Koaxia."

"Indeed, Dances. We only were able to stop their damage by signing a treaty. I believe Necropolis will be interested in no such thing," sighed Athena, as if recalling something that was better off forgotten.

"Should Necropolis attain Koaxia's legacy, I fear even we will be unable to combat them," said the Dark Lord.

"That boy is our last hope. It is an apt decision that he joins a guild that represents the very same thing, but that's beside the point. Dances, _do not_ let him perish, or all of Bera could be doomed." Grendel said.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don't worry about him; he's tougher than he looks. I think he'll pass the test no problem."

* * *

Little did Dances with Balrog know that he had sorely overestimated Ryden, at least in terms of his current strength. Right now the fire boars were giving Ryden one hell of a headache, as they took too many Power Strikes to die, and the Lupins that he occasionally saw were sometimes too swift for his blade; his Gladius sporadically missed its mark everytime he swung it at one of the monkeys. The monsters here were also much tougher then normal, and even his new Red Cross Shield had trouble softening their blows.

Every time a monster threw itself against his shield, Ryden's arm was jangled all the way up to his shoulder, giving him the impression that he'd probably dislocated every joint in his left arm. Whenever the blade of his Gladius struck a monster, it felt as though he was striking against a wall of stone, and his right arm was getting mighty worn out.

He wolfed down a piece of meat and gulped down a salty-tasting orange potion to wash it down before finishing off with a bitter blue potion to replenish his mana. His wounds somewhat healed and the headache partially relieved, Ryden picked up his sword and readied his shield, continuing to slay the monsters in search of more dark marbles.

So far he had collected at least twenty of them, and he had ten more to go before he could pass the test. He slew another fire boar with four Power Strikes, and cut open its chest, grimacing as he slid a gloved hand inside and withdrew a dark marble from within the beast's innards. He placed the marble in the pack, shook his hand dry and continued on his way.

Twenty minutes later he had run out of potions, lost count of how many monsters he had slain, and definitely didn't know how many marbles he had collected. But now it didn't matter how many he had collected; his mind was weary from all the constant fighting, and it would be suicide if he continued to fight without having potions to use in emergencies.

He had no choice but to return and hope that he had at least collected more than thirty dark marbles. Exhausted, he made his way back to where the warrior job instructor was waiting.

The burly instructor saw Ryden approaching, and held out his hand for the pack in which Ryden had kept the dark marbles. Ryden handed it to him without a word, and the instructor upended the bag, carelessly spilling out the marbles onto the floor.

Even though the burly warrior didn't pick up the marbles, Ryden could tell that he was counting them; the instructor's beady eyes were darting from one marble to another, no doubt adding up the numbers in his head.

A few seconds later the instructor turned to Ryden and said, "Congratulations. You've passed the test. Sixty-seven dark marbles." Ryden broke out into a wide grin as he accepted the Proof of a Hero from the instructor and was sent back to Perion to present his medal to Dances with Balrog.

Finally, he was one step closer to becoming a crusader, like his father…

As he entered the Warrior's Guild, Dances with Balrog came out of his meditative pose.

"Ah, so you're back at last. I take it that the test went well?" The elder warrior asked.

Ryden winced slightly as his battered body protested against kneeling, so he decided to answer, "It was… difficult. But I did it."

He raised his right hand up for Dances to see, where he clutched the Proof of a Hero. Perion's chief chuckled affably as he clapped his approval.

"Good, good! Very good… I presume I won't need to give you all that tutorial bullshit about the pros and cons of being a fighter, a page, etc., so I just take it that you want to be a fighter like your father?" Ryden nodded, and Dances with Balrog got to his feet.

"All right, then we shall proceed with the ceremony." The dark-skinned warrior walked over to a nearby bookshelf, pulled out a thick, bloodred tome, and dusted it off before opening it.

Dances with Balrog then turned to Ryden, murmuring an incantation that he read off the book. Ryden immediately knelt down on one knee without prompting as another circle of power appeared around him, except that the light that this circle gave off was a dark crimson.

More incantations followed as the circle of power flared multiple times, and with each flare Ryden could feel the power flowing into him, infusing itself with him. The incantations reached a crescendo as the circle of power began to literally blaze with energy, no longer simmering in a gentle glow. Tendrils of energy from the sides of the circle snaked upwards into the air and curled themselves around Ryden, flowing into him.

Dances with Balrog shouted out the final incantation, and the symbol of a sword crossed with an axe over a shield appeared over Ryden just as the last of the tendrils of energy had flowed into him. It flickered once before dissipating, and the elder warrior set the tome back into the bookshelf. He pulled out another one, and handed it to Ryden, who had gotten back onto his feet.

"This skill book contains all of the necessary techniques that a Fighter will need to survive. I have just given you a great deal of power, and it is your responsibility to use that power wisely. Do not waste it on those monsters you used to kill; you are too strong for them now. Instead, set your sights on new areas. You can now fight creatures that you previously couldn't even touch. Son of Dracon, go and prove your worth as a Fighter. You have a great destiny ahead of you – fulfill it."

The newly christened Fighter beamed widely as he accepted the tome from the elder warrior, and he hastily thanked the Chief of Perion before dashing out of the chamber, no doubt eager to try out his new power.

Dances with Balrog smiled to himself. Indeed, there was a great destiny ahead of that one. He would become just like his father.

The son of the legendary Crusader Dracon, soon to become a legendary crusader himself.

**

* * *

**

A/N: If you didn't understand what the 4 Wise Men meant by Beta Testing, Agents and the Server, here's how it goes. The world of Bera is in fact a virtual reality, or a 'Server', though the general population does not realise it. They continue to lead their lives in the world of Maple Story, quite unaware that there is an extra dimension out there and that their reality is only a 'Dream World' of sorts. Kinda like The Matrix mixed with Star Ocean 3. The 4 Wise Men of Victoria Island are the Supreme GMs, while the 'Regular GMs' that we normally see in-game are dubbed as 'Agents' in this story. Hope that's enough to clear up any confusion. If you have any further questions feel free to send queries via a review.


	4. The Hacker and the Dragon

Disclaimer: I tire of this...

* * *

A/N: This is where the fic becomes less like Maple Story and more like a hybrid of Warcraft, The Matrix, Star Ocean 3 AND Maple Story. By the way, if the romance parts in this chapter seem sub-par, feel free to blame me; I suck at writing this kind of stuff anyway. Our action fight-scenes are much better.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Hacker and the Dragon

Ryden barged through the double-doors to the Land of Wild Boar, looking for Merth. He had heard that the assassin had been training here in search of elusive Jr. Boogies, so Ryden hoped to find him before he left.

It was a stroke of luck; Ryden managed to catch Merth just as he was leaving the area.

"Merth!" The Fighter called out. The assassin turned his head in the direction of the voice, and beamed widely as he saw Ryden coming towards him.

"Ryden, I guess you're here to inform me of your decision to join our guild?" Merth assumed.

Ryden nodded, and said, "Yes. Sorry about making you wait so long, but it was difficult making up my mind."

Merth's grin grew even wider. "Don't worry about it; many others even higher leveled than you still took much longer than you to make up their minds to join. Any other friends of yours interested in joining?"

Ryden's smile faltered. He had been slightly nervous about this part…

"Merth, you wouldn't really mind if one of my… friends was actually a member of Necropolis?" Merth's grin turned sour, but to Ryden's relief he didn't turn angry or lash out at him. Instead, he seemed disappointed.

After a moment of silence the assassin finally said, "It would be… all right. But make sure nobody else knows about this, or the guild master will boot you out faster than you can say 'Dark Lord'."

Ryden thanked his friend for his understanding and departed from the Land of Wild Boar. He pulled out his personal PDA, which looked more like a Game Boy than anything, and he flipped it open. He brought up the World Map screen, and a digital image of a bird's eye view of Victoria Island appeared. A small text box also popped up near the screen's bottom, and he typed in '/find Astella'. As he hit the enter button the text box disappeared and a small yellow blip appeared near the center of Victoria Island; looked like Astella was in the dungeon.

Ryden flipped the PDA closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. Setting off through Perion's Deep Valley, he cut his way through groups of various boars and stumps with his newfound power and his greater mastery of the sword, and soon enough he had reached Sleepywood. He checked in at the hotel's regular sauna, exchanged the loot he had gathered from the monsters for a few replacement potions, and rested for a few minutes before checking out and delving deep into the Ant Tunnel.

It was several sections inward before he found Astella training at the Deep Ant Tunnel. When he first saw her on a lower ledge she had been surrounded by Zombie Mushrooms. His first instinct was to jump down and slay the undead mushrooms with a round of Slash Blasts, but it wasn't necessary.

With a wave of her staff a column of green light surrounded Astella. The undead mushrooms withered as the healing magicks countered the necromancy that had resurrected them, and a number of them fell over to the ground, dead for good.

She repeated the spell one more time to clear the area of any stragglers, and within moments the entire ledge had been cleared. Ryden jumped down to join her, and the magician yelped in surprise as he landed behind her with a sudden thud.

She whirled around, obviously anticipating a threat, but she sighed in relief when she was it was only her friend.

"Hey Ryden, good to see you." She greeted him with a smile.

Ryden returned the smile, and remarked upon registering her new level 35 magician equips, "Good to see you too, 'Stella. Making rapid progress, I see. Already a Cleric?"

Astella grinned and replied, "Yeah, it's all thanks to my guild members, they've been helping me train. They said that I've got 'potential'." She emphasized the word 'potential' with an overdose of skepticism, indicating that she didn't really believe her guild mates, or had much respect for them for that matter.

_Guild…_ Ryden thought to himself. _Maybe she's already joined them…_ "Astella?"

"Hmm?"

"You've joined Necropolis, haven't you?" Ryden almost dreaded her answer, but he steeled himself and prepared for her answer anyway.

"Yeah, I have. Why?" Ryden mentally cursed at the misfortune, but he decided to tell her anyway.

"'Stella… I've joined Last Hope." To his surprise she didn't turn angry or declare him to be a sworn enemy or anything like that; she just seemed to become rather downcast, murmuring a small "Oh."

"You're not angry or anything?" He asked her.

"Well, Ryden, I…" The cleric bit her lip, unsure of what would happen if she just put across her feelings bluntly. She didn't want to scare the poor fighter away by being too forward, but she had to tell him now, before circumstances forced them apart.

Ryden on the other hand took her hesitation to be the sign of something else. He had been fearing it would come down to this one day; right now the scene was just replaying itself over and over again in his head. Astella would tell him that they could only be friends, never more, and she would awkwardly leave, leaving Ryden alone and heartbroken.

_Ah, what the hell. If I'm wrong then I'll bear the consequences myself._ He stepped closer to Astella and just as she opened her mouth to say something, he kissed her on the lips.

The female cleric gasped slightly in shock, stunned for a split-second before she closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. They stayed like that for several moments, their lips connected, before they reluctantly broke away. Astella looked up into Ryden's blue eyes, and she could see a burning determination in them.

She quickly pulled away from him, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Ryden, but we can't do this. We're from opposing guilds; this will never work."

Ryden winced inwardly at her alleged rejection, but it was slightly comforting to know that she returned his feelings. Undeterred, he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders, locking her gaze in his.

"Look into my eyes, 'Stella. We can do this. I won't let some prissy, stuck-up guild masters get in our way; we will make this relationship work." The fire in his eyes blazed with burning determination, and Astella could tell that Ryden was willing to be with her, no matter the price.

"I… guess so. The power of love conquers all, doesn't it?" Ryden chuckled at his new girlfriend's corniness, and he moved his face closer to hers to peck her on the lips.

Before he even moved an inch his PDA started beeping, and Ryden fished it out of his pocket, irritated. He flipped it open, and saw that he had one new message from Merth.

"Sorry, 'Stella. I've gotta go, Merth's calling me." He told her as he read the message. Astella nodded understandingly and kissed him on the cheek, bidding him goodbye. Ryden returned the kiss for a brief moment before breaking off leaving the Ant Tunnel.

Astella watched his retreating back with a smile, happy that she had finally gotten together with him. Now all they had to do was keep their relationship a secret. Her eyes slowly traveled down his back, down to his…

_Stop it! Bad Astella! Bad! No dirty thoughts about him!_ She furiously thought as she mentally slapped herself for even entertaining the notion. She was so distracted that she never heard the padded footsteps coming up behind her until she was suddenly grabbed by the neck and turned around, being shoved against a nearby rocky wall while a gloved hand that had metal spikes protruding from its knuckles maintained its iron grip on her throat.

She reflexively grabbed at the hand, attempting to pry its fingers loose, but they were as unyielding as solid steel bars. She stared in terror at her assailant, a thief who was clad in ornate armor and had a pair of demonic wings that were currently folded behind him like a cape. His skin was pale as death, giving him the appearance of a corpse, and his upper canines had grown much longer than his other teeth, granting him a marked resemblance to a vampire.

"D-Dreznor!" The cleric squeaked in fright at the sight of her guild superior. Dreznor stared back down at her with eyes that glowed a bloody red, and Astella shrank back even further.

Though Dreznor was a thief, he couldn't be considered an assassin or a bandit; he was neither. In the dark ages of Bera each job held a secret, additional path that only the bravest or most foolhardy would take on. That path granted more power than any of the others, but it also came at a hefty price; the dark powers that were involved in that kind of advancement always required a sacrifice, most often at the expense of the soul. Those who descended down that path frequently became psychotic killers, madmen who lived to cause naught but destruction and despair. When the Four Wise Men of Victoria Island rose to power they banned every one of those Dark Paths, and all mention of them was erased from every copy of every job manual in Bera.

All but those that were held in Ossyria. Necropolis scholars traveled to El Nath, and discovered ancient copies of the job manuals, each one detailing how one could attain the power of the Dark Paths. The scholars immediately distributed these manuals to their higher-ranking members, and they were the first to descend into darkness. Dreznor was one of them, and though he was once a respected assassin, when he accepted the power of the Dark Path of the Thief he became something else entirely.

A Fel Rogue, one who possessed both the ranged prowess of an assassin as well as the deadly speed of a bandit in close combat. It was not long before Dreznor advanced even further, into the 3rd job class of the Thief's Dark Path – a Dreadlord. As a Dreadlord Dreznor was granted control over the creatures of the night as well as their nature, and he was bestowed immense vampiric power, along with a certain extent of hypnosis; Dreznor was excellent at manipulating people to do his bidding when he wasn't scaring or beating the shit out of them. As Dreznor gained more power, his appearance became warped, becoming less and less human with each passing level as the power he absorbed corrupted him further.

The Dreadlord tightened his grip on the Cleric slightly and lifted her up into the air, cackling sadistically as Astella kicked her legs spastically, her eyes bulging with terror. He bored into her eyes with a soul-chilling gaze that caused her struggling to become even more frantic, and he growled out in a voice as deep and menacing as the crashing ocean, saying, "I could kill you with a simple flick of my wrist. No one, and I mean _no one_, encounters a Last Hope member and lets them get away unscathed. Our guild master, my dear Astella, considers such behavior treason. Surely you know that?"

The terrified cleric frantically nodded her understanding as she struggled to break free of Dreznor's grip, but she may as well have been trying to bend adamantium. Dreznor chortled again at her futile efforts, and he loosened his grip on her throat just enough for her to speak.

"But your relationship with that Last Hope scumbag could prove useful to me. Where is he heading now?"

Struggling to draw breath, she croaked out, "I-I don't k-know! He-he said that he was g-going to meet with his guild's Jr. Master, he must be out of Sleepywood by now-" She was cut off as Dreznor abruptly released his hold on her throat, and she fell to the ground on shaky legs that promptly buckled under her weight, landing her roughly on her rump. Clutching at her sore throat and gasping for breath, she scrambled away from the Dreadlord, backing up against the rock wall, desperate to put as much distance between her and him as possible.

Dreznor snapped his fingers, and three Fel Rogues appeared out of the shadows, kneeling behind their master. For all intents and purposes Fel Rogues looked just like regular thieves, but they each had the emblem of Necropolis emblazoned onto their equipment, and their eyes burned with an evil light that no other thief could possibly emanate. Astella cringed as one of the Fel Rogues leered at her, but Dreznor made sure they didn't move a muscle until they were told to do so.

"Thank you, my dear. Your information is of great assistance to us. I will ensure that you will be… duly rewarded," Turning to his Fel Rogues, he commanded, "Gather all available units in the immediate vicinity and take that impudent fool out. No witnesses either, for that matter."

One of the Fel Rogues spoke out, "I don't like that idea. I can take him by myself-"

The Rogue was promptly sent smashing into the cavern wall by an unseen force.

"I'm not asking you to like it. I'm asking you to do it. Our operations in this area are too vital for anyone to find out, be it the leader of Last Hope or some depraved grunt! You will see to it that he does not live to see another sunrise, or you will not," the Dreadlord bellowed, his booming voice laced with rage.

His point made, Dreznor wrapped his wings around himself and disappeared in a flurry of bats. His Fel Rogues enfolded the shadows around themselves, and they vanished along with their master.

Slowly getting up onto her feet, Astella picked up her fallen staff and rubbed her sore bottom. _Duly rewarded, my ass._ She thought bitterly to herself as she cast a healing spell on herself, soothing her sore throat and causing the aches in her body to disappear.

She was seriously starting to regret joining Necropolis…

* * *

"That's the last time I trust anyone for directions…" muttered Ryden under his breath. A Magician near the exit of the caverns had given him a short cut, and Merth seemed to be in an urgent hurry to meet him, so he blindly took the short cut. But alas, the dense forest could be the most unforgiving of terrain at times, and after a while, Ryden realized he was totally lost. He tried backtracking, but every damn tree and every damn bush looked the same. 

Sleepywood was a mystical place; even in the middle of noon it seemed to be perpetually evening. Ryden flopped down on a large boulder and contemplated his next move, when suddenly, a large group approached from the other side of the clearing. There were Rogues, Warriors, like himself, Magicians and Bowmen. It was one huge hunting party, perhaps after one of the rarer games in the area.

Out of courtesy, Ryden got up and greeted them with a shout, "How fares the hunting?"

A thief at the front of the group returned the greeting, "Excellent, thank you. We have just located our prey."

"Do you, by any chance, know the way back to Sleepywood town?" Ryden queried again, "I've been wandering these woods for quite some time now and I need to get out, desperately."

"We can't point you back to town," replied the thief slyly, "But we can take you another place."

Relieved, Ryden asked again, "And where would that be?"

The large party fanned out around the lone warrior, weapons drawn.

"We're bringing you for a joy-ride, warrior of Last Hope," the thief straightened up, revealing the emblem of Necropolis emblazoned onto his armor, "To hell."

Ryden tried to run, but realized that that option had closed for him. The Necropolis members had him totally surrounded. Ryden glanced quickly at their ID tags. The level ranges were from 50 to 30, the lowest being the level 29 Magician in front of him.

Taking a gamble, Ryden raised his blade and charged forth at what seemed to be the weakest link of the chain. He hoped to smash past the Magician, then run for his life and hope to lose his pursuers. As he closed the distance between him and the Magician, he raised his blade high and brought it down in a killing arc…

Only to have it held at bay by the Magician's Sapphire Wand, with almost casual ease. Giving a snort of disgust, the Magician launched a Magic Claw attack, which bit right through the lone Fighter's armor, and sent him sprawling on the forest floor.

"How the…" Ryden gasped in shock.

"Simple. We aren't ordinary players anymore. When we swore allegiance to Necropolis, we were bestowed incredible powers," explained a Wizard from the group, his wand held at the ready to cast a spell, "I'll give it to you though, Fighter. You fought more gloriously than your other comrades. We'll make your death quick."

The Wizard muttered an incantation, and a huge pillar of lightning descended from the heavens and engulfed Ryden. Whatever scream of pain escaped from his lips was promptly drowned out by the awesome display of sheer power.

When the attack finally died down, Ryden could no longer feel his body. His sight grew dim and his strength wore out. But before unconsciousness overcame him, he saw someone leap in front of him with a drawn blade. Then, he surrendered to the blackness.

* * *

"You up yet?" an unfamiliar voice asked. 

"Ugh…what happened?" Ryden slowly pulled his aching body up to a sitting position. He studied his surroundings. Gone was the clearing where he had rested, and fought the Necropolis members. Instead a warm campfire and a towering figure replaced that.

"You bit off more than you could chew. Fancy that. Someone like you picking a fight with Necropolis," the stranger spoke.

"They attacked me first!" Ryden leapt to his defense.

"Regardless, you were defeated. Who do you think you are, your father?" the stranger's words hit him like a sledgehammer.

Ryden contemplated for a while, before asking again, "You knew my father?"

"Not personally. But unless you were living in a hole for the last twenty years you've surely heard of Dracon, the legendary crusader." came the reply, "Either way, now that you're alright, my business here is over." The stranger turned on his heel and left.

"Wait! Who are you?" shouted Ryden.

"A nobody," said the stranger, pausing for a while.

"Even a nobody has a name, let's hear it," replied Ryden.

The stranger tensed, then slowly eased and gave his introduction, "Rodriguez Smithsonian J. Gustav III."

"In short?" a baffled Ryden asked again.

"Smith. Just Smith will do," he replied with a smirk.

"All right then Smith, I'll-" Ryden was cut-off mid-sentence. The Sleepywood forest wasn't very thick, neither was it very dark, but Smith had somehow disappeared.

"Never mind…"

* * *

Ryden realized that he'd been unconscious for several hours and was aware that Merth was waiting for him. Thankfully, he'd found one of the many dirt tracks that led out of the forest. 

Making haste to catch up on lost time, he jogged along the track, taking in the sights and sounds of the forest, which seemed friendlier now that he'd found his way again. Then, at a bend in the road, he heard voices coming from deeper in. Despite knowing full well that curiosity killed the cat, Ryden crept in silently, intent on seeing what was going on.

Peering out from a huge oak from which he was hiding behind, he saw several people standing around some sort of distortion in the distance. It was a ceremony of sorts, he had heard about the locals worshipping deities in the woods, but this felt…more sinister. Upon closer inspection, it dawned upon him that all present bore the emblem of Necropolis on their uniforms.

"What's going on?" Ryden wondered out loud.

"What you see before you is a spatial distortion. What I see is a glitch in the server," someone's voice came from behind. Smith's.

"Glitch?" queried Ryden.

"Do you believe there is another world out there, Son of Dracon?" asked Smith.

"There are many things we do not know," was the reply.

"Good. Your mind is open. The first step to knowledge. You know about Agents and Game Masters don't you?" Smith asked again.

"The guardians of Bera? The ones who preserve the order of the world? Who hasn't heard about them," said Ryden.

"Guardians of the world, but guardians against what?" Smith asked again.

"Hackers," Ryden came to the conclusion.

"Indeed. You learn fast, Son of Dracon," commented Smith.

"But why here?" asked Ryden, beginning to grasp the picture, but still totally clueless.

"There was once a great order of hackers, the Order of Koaxia. They were once Agents, but displeased at the way the Game Masters were governing the server, and their attitude of isolation towards the politics of the players, they split off and became vigilantes, taking the law into their own hands," explained Smith.

"What happened next?" Ryden asked, eager to know the rest of the story.

"They were defeated by the Game Masters and banished. But during that last titanic battle, parts of the server were damaged. We call these damaged bits glitches. The Game Masters and Agents sought to fix all of them, but no matter how hard they tried, there were always stones left unturned," Smith continued with his tale.

"Like that," Ryden gestured at the gathering up ahead.

"Necropolis has been secretly using hacks to gain immense strength. And I believe there is more to their plan. I must stop them," declared Smith. He got up and approached.

Finally, Ryden was able to see Smith's full battle-garb. He was clad in black from head to toe, and bore twin Katanas on each side of his utility belt. Polished steel pauldrons grieves and gauntlets shimmered in the dim morning light. Around his chest he wore a cuirass that was shaped like a man's rib cage. There was no helm on his head. Instead, he only wore a pair of jet-black sunglasses.

Ryden glanced quickly at Smith's identity card, eager to see what level and job class the imposing stranger was. Smith moved swiftly, but Ryden was able to register Smith's level fast enough.

_Such a strong guy, confronting level 80 players on his own. Surely he's at least level 100…_

Ryden never knew how wrong he was. On his PDA, Smith's level was registered as a blank.

_Blank? But even newbies start at level 1. Surely there's some kind of problem- _Ryden then recalled his mother telling him to always consider both sides of the coin.

Then the realization struck Ryden like a meteor. _If he's not level 0, then his level is…too high to be displayed._

He glanced up and saw Smith decapitate a level 87 Crusader with almost casual ease.

_Order of Koaxia all banished my ass…

* * *

_

The Necropolis fighters were all seasoned veterans. They took up defensive positions and closed in onto the lone Smith all at once, attacking from every angle. Swords and spears shone with unholy light as they rained down killing blows. For all their effort however, the fighters of Necropolis found all their strikes deflected by a strange invisible barrier that surrounded their assailant.

"Fools," muttered Smith, as he thrust his Katanas into the gut of a Dragon Knight. The man barely got a chance to scream in pain before Smith sliced off his head, denying him such a luxury.

Mages and bowmen from the rear of the Necropolis formation loosed barrages of spells and missile attacks on him, causing huge cataclysmic explosions and kicking up a curtain of dust.

Despite the thoroughness of the attack, it either missed, or Smith was unaffected by it. The vigilante stepped right out from behind the curtain of dust, seemingly unscathed. Raising an outstretched arm, he uttered a spell, "**_Incendia_**!"

Swirls of bluish-red flames erupted from the ground, gracefully spiraling towards the heavens. The display was beautiful beyond words, and even the Necropolis members paused from their assault to gape at it in awe. But the awe was replaced by that of dread soon enough.

The swirls ascended to a certain height, before descending at a rapid pace, bringing an immense pillar of flame down with it. The Necropolis members standing directly underneath were reduced to ashes instantly. Those lucky enough to be outside the immediate blast radius were knocked off their feet by the impact. Not that it mattered anyway; Smith redirected the pillar on top of them, killing them too.

Within a few moments, the fighters of Necropolis lay either in ashes, or in pieces, scattered all around the clearing. Smith walked up to the spatial distortion and extended his hand. With one touch, it disappeared. Smith turned to leave, but a rustle in the bushes caught his attention. Striding up to the source of the noise, he pushed aside the bushes to reveal a terrified cleric staring up at him with all the dread and hatred reserved for the devil himself.

From his vantage point, Ryden gave out a gasp as he realized who the cleric was. _Astella! What the hell is she doing here?_

Smith spoke first, "I'm surprised to see one young and untainted such as you to be in cahoots with them."

"I…" Astella stammered, "I believe I'm old enough to make the right choices of friends."

"A poor choice, no doubt," replied Smith. "You ally yourself with hackers and murderers. Kids these days…"

"And he who kills murderers is not a murderer himself?" Astella blasted, obviously enraged by the deaths of her guild mates.

"I walk the fine line between killer and executioner. At times even I feel confused," mumbled Smith softly, "Regardless, you shall die."

"For what? Hacking? Kill yourself first before you come kill me! You're no saint! You're just another hacker!" Astella's rage gave her confidence. Summoning her strength, she ignited a holy arrow and launched it at Smith, only to see it bounce helplessly off Smith's defensive barrier.

"Correct. I admit I am a hacker, but one such as you does not know how deep the hole really is. Train for ten thousand years more in hell before you try to raise a candle towards me," Smith raised his arm, "**_Incendia!_**"

The pyroclasm of death started again, this time more merciless than the first. Ryden tried to tear his face away as Astella's magical defenses evaporated in seconds, but her screams of agony kept him looking back. Then, on impulse, he sprung forth from his hiding place, dashed towards Smith, and stabbed him through the gut with his blade.

Smith grunted, but the spell continued.

Painfully, Ryden slashed Smith three more times across the back, opening huge gaping wounds, each enough to kill a man. Finally, Smith sank to one knee, and the spell stopped.

Ryden then sprinted over to Astella and held her in a defensive embrace. As Smith straightened up to resume his attack, Ryden called out, "You want to kill her? Kill me first!"

Emotionlessly, Smith demanded, "Move aside."

"How about, 'no'?" taunted Ryden.

"I will not hurt a law-abiding player such as you, but hackers like her must die," Smith said.

"You are a hacker too, how does that make you different from her?" Ryden queried, his voice brimming with rage.

Smith let out a snort, and then relented. Turning on his heel, he replied without looking back, "You will live to regret your folly this day, Son of Dracon. And I will be there to see it happen."

With that, the vigilante strode into the forest, and disappeared.

Relieved that the monster of a man had left, Ryden quickly checked up on Astella. Her pulse was weak and her breathing short. Her robes were all charred black, and at places where the flames had incinerated right through, Ryden discovered horrifying burn wounds. He had to get her to a healer – quickly.

_Damn, damn, damn…Why does this always happen to me…_

_

* * *

_

A/N: Crap, I realised that I forgot to put the credits in the last chapter! Anyway, here they are, for characters that debuted in both the last chapter and this one.

Mr. Thief a.k.a. Merth: As stated in the last chapter, his IGN is 'mrth1ef'. He's a level 52 assassin at this moment. One thing I know is that his buddy list is always full.

Dreznor: Completely original character; there's no such thing as a Dreadlord in Maple Story.

Rodriguez Smithsonian J. Gustav III a.k.a. Smith: Included at the request of a friend who has a banditsin but wanted his character to be granted god-like powers. Hence, Smith was born. And yes, we ripped off his shortened name from The Matrix.

Ok, the Dark Paths are entirely original job paths that I created, though some of the names were ripped off from Warcraft III or Warhammer 40k. If you want greater detail then I can elaborate further.

Warrior's Dark Path: 2nd Job – Death Knight, 3rd Job – Bloodthirster, 4th Job – Daemon Prince.

Magician's Dark Path: 2nd Job – Necromancer, 3rd Job – Warlock, 4th Job – Chaos Sorcerer.

Bowman's Dark Path: 2nd Job – Beastmaster, 3rd Job – Dark Ranger, 4th Job – Headhunter.

Thief's Dark Path: 2nd Job – Fel Rogue, 3rd Job – Dreadlord, 4th Job – Voidwalker.

I'll elaborate only on 2nd and 3rd job classes here; 4th jobbers are extremely rare in this story and they warrant their own introductions.

Death Knight: Death Knights were once heroic, virtuous defenders of Bera. However, they were corrupted by the subtle machinations of Necropolis' Guild Master and lured to his dark standard. These former heroes were given untold power and the promise of immortality in exchange for their loyalties. Although they retained their humanity, their twisted souls were bound to their Guild Master's will for all time. Bestowed with black, vampiric runeblades, death knights now serve as Necropolis' mightiest foot soldiers.

Bloodthirster: Drained of their humanity and cursed with a terrible bloodlust, Bloodthirsters are driven to madness by a never-ending desire for violence. These insane warriors live to cause nothing but mindless bloodshed as they joylessly seek to slaughter as many opponents as possible. A Bloodthirster's insatiable yearning to rend and tear flesh has affected not only his mind, but his body as well. Drenched in the blood of countless victims, his skin is dyed an ominous crimson hue, and his eyes burn with a sadistic hunger to cause pain. Endless hours of killing and mutilating have developed his body to inhuman proportions, sporting insanely over-sized muscles that enable him to tear apart adamantium with his bare hands. Because their terrible bloodlust also causes severe mental degradation, Bloodthirsters now serve as Necropolis' notorious shock troopers.

Necromancer: Though they retained their humanity after making their pact with darkness, necromancers became some of the most terrifying agents of Necropolis. These dark, nefarious men and women were once thought to be aspiring geniuses by the Magocracy of Ellinia. However, their insatiable lust to delve into the dark arts drove them to forsake their very souls. Necropolis' Guild Master granted theses malevolent magicians true power over the dead in exchange for their obedience. The shadowy necromancers have the power to raise skeletal warriors from the grave and bestow a number of dark enchantments upon their fellow comrades, thus serving as Necropolis' supportive spellcasters.

Warlock: Born as a Necromancer reaches the pinnacle of his powers, warlocks are absolutely corrupt and unimaginably powerful. Their chaos magicks have burnt out whole landmasses and annihilated countless species in Bera's Dark Ages. Having mastered the powers of entropy and destruction like no other, warlocks now serve as Necropolis' tacticians and strategists.

Beastmaster: A cunning hunter, able to call forth the creatures of the forest to serve him. These lone wandering archers often come from shadowy backgrounds, seeking the essence of combat through the mimicry of wild beasts. With unparalleled keenness, deadly accuracy, and the ability to manipulate the creatures of the forest to do his bidding, Beastmasters serve as Necropolis' scouts and trackers.

Dark Ranger: Dark Rangers are similar to their regular cousins, but focus on shadowcraft more than nature. They are silent and invisible stalkers of the shadows, felling unsuspecting opponents with a single arrow. Dark Rangers still favor the bow as the ultimate weapon, using the same arts that Athena Pierce taught for decades. Their spells work with manipulating the essences of of life and death, as well as various horrible curses and mind-enslaving abilities. Dark Rangers are found only in Necropolis. No other guild has the Dark Paths' history coupled with the personal knowledge of shadows to learn the arts of a Dark Ranger. In fact, many Dark Rangers refuse to teach their arts to anyone who wasn't an archer or a Necropolis member.

Fel Rogue: Fel Rogues are dark, shadowy warriors who are shunned even by their own guild members. The stealthiest among the Dark Paths, a Fel Rogue can pass off as a regular thief if one is able to hide their sinisterly glowing green eyes. They possess the ranged prowess of an assassin as well as the deadly speed of a bandit in close combat. Coupled with an additional ability that allows them to wield one-handed weapons with efficiency identical to that of a warrior, Fel Rogues are deadly opponents, regardless of their range. Masters of stealth and guile, a Fel Rogue's victim generally never sees his killer approaching until it is too late. With unparalleled skill in infiltration and wet work, Fel Rogues are among the best of Necropolis' assassins.

Dreadlord: Dreadlords are incredibly powerful individuals who wield the powers of the night and mental domination. These cunning, malefic beings serve as Necropolis' Guild Master's most trusted lieutenants. At their Guild Master's order, they ensure that Necropolis' operations are carried out smoothly to sow chaos in the world. Though Dreadlords have been known to revel in the gore of single combat, they generally prefer to manipulate and beguile their enemies from the shadows.

As stated earlier, 4th jobbers warrant their own introductions, but just to clear things up here's the hierarchy system one can find in Necropolis.

Initiate (1st Jobbers): These 'newbies' are granted the lowest rank and the measliest measure of power as they first join Necropolis. If one is to ascend through the ranks they must first advance into their next job, then pass an additional test set by Necropolis' Jr. Masters in order to gain access to more of Necropolis' secrets.

Rebel (2nd Jobbers): The second lowest rank, these are mostly regarded as 'grunts' by the higher-ranking members of the guild. Once a Rebel advances past level 50 he may be promoted to a sergeant-esque post within the Rebel ranks, where he is granted command over the lower-leveled Rebels. Rebels possess more power than Initiates, but they know little of Necropolis' true hacks. Still, they are dangerous foes, superior to any normal player due to the hacks that they use.

Hacker (3rd Jobbers): The middle rank, right before Jr. Master. A fully-grown hacker of Necropolis, they now possess knowledge of a majority of Necropolis' hacks; regularly used ones include those that grant them superhuman strength, speed, endurance, and a certain extent of telekinesis. Though they do not possess enough power to completely break the rules of the reality set around them, they certainly have more than enough to bend them to their advantage.

Elite Hacker (4th Jobbers): The Jr. Masters of Necropolis, there are only four individuals who are in this class, each of them belonging to each respective job's Dark Path. Comprised of a Daemon Prince, a Headhunter, a Chaos Sorcerer, and a Voidwalker, these four answer directly to Necropolis' supreme master, and the Hackers answer to them. They each possess enough power to alter the very reality they exist in, having god-like powers that few can compare with.

Master Hacker (Guild Master): The supreme guild master of Necropolis, this man does not belong to just any job class; hacks have allowed him to advance even further than that. He is now a non-existent 5th Jobber; well, technically it's non-existent because 5th Job doesn't exist at all, but he is still more advanced than any 4th Jobber. He possesses the powers of all the jobs, and much more. He is truly a force to be reckoned with, having unparelleled knowledge of hacks and how to use them to bend and break the very fabric of reality on a whim. The only person who can even hope to wound him would have to be another hacker.


	5. Promises of Power

Disclaimer: We do not own Maple Story, Warcraft, The Matrix, Star Ocean 3, the character Zeraion Phoenix from Kal Ancalas' fic Revolt of the Archers(though I have his consent to use his character in this fic), and anything else we ripped off either blatantly or subtlely.

* * *

Chapter 5: Promises of Power

A lone fighter cradled the limp body of a cleric in his arms, and he darted through the forest with a speed borne of desperation. His breath quick and shallow with panic, he stopped for a short moment and glanced down at the badly injured girl he held, pressing two fingers against her neck briefly before taking off again at an even faster pace. She was fading fast…

Ryden had taken no more than five steps when portals of darkness appeared all around him. Alarmed, he halted in his tracks, unconsciously cradling Astella's lifeless form closer to himself.

Shadowy figures emerged from the portals; Ryden could immediately see that he was totally surrounded. Again. From the foremost portal an immense being that was at least twice as tall as him emerged. It was clad in ornate armor with demonic wings that flared out from behind it, and its skin was pale as a wraith. Black gloves with metal spikes protruding from its knuckles covered hands that had deadly claws emerging from its fingertips. Its eyes burned a malevolent green, and though Ryden was generally hard to intimidate, even he found himself cringing slightly at the sheer force of evil that that… 'Thing' radiated.

All around him similarly clad figures continued to emerge from the portals. He glanced around, and among many others he saw a beefy man clad in bulky skeletal armor that had skulls adorning the shoulder plates and shin guards, a lithe woman carrying a darkly-glowing bow who had her eyes covered by a wolf's-head mask, and a sinisterly-dressed wizard who was wearing the upper half of a ram's skull on his head. Confused at their bizarre attire, Ryden glanced at their ID tags, curious to see which job they were…

… And was stunned when he saw names that he had never even heard of.

_What the hell is a Death Knight? And… Beastmaster? What's a Necromancer? _Ryden thought to himself as he identified each of the individuals respectively. He gazed forward, identifying the last one; the one clad in ornate armor with the demonic wings, and was rewarded with the knowledge that the one in front of him was a Dreadlord. Whatever the hell that was.

The Dreadlord extended a clawed hand out to him, and demanded in a rumbling voice, "I'll take the girl."

"Who are you?" Ryden asked, eyeing the Dreadlord suspiciously.

"If you must know, my name is Scavell Dreznor, one of the masters of the fine guild we call Necropolis." The vampire-esque man introduced himself with a mock bow.

"What do you want?" Ryden took a step backwards, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Just to retrieve our precious guild member that you're holding right now. You'll be free to go after that." Dreznor stated, gesturing towards Astella.

"How do I know you're not gonna kill her? Or me, for that matter." Ryden said doubtfully.

"My boy, she has just survived an attack from an Agent, has she not? Agents are great enemies of Necropolis, and you've just negated your status as a threat to us by protecting our precious guild member from them. I believe that she is also in dire need of medical attention." The Dreadlord pointed out, motioning to the cleric's burn wounds.

Ryden cursed under his breath. Much as he hated it, he would have to hand over Astella to her guild superiors. It seemed that it was the only way to save her life. Reluctantly, he bent down and gently set Astella's body onto the ground. Dreznor broke out into a wide, fanged grin as Ryden stepped back from Astella's body.

"Excellent, my boy. You've just made a wise decision." Dreznor beckoned towards the Beastmistress, and the lithe woman strode forward and roughly threw Astella's body over her shoulder.

Ryden winced inwardly at the way the woman was handling his girlfriend, but he kept up a stoic outward appearance. "Ok, you have her back. Can I go now?"

Though it seemed anatomically impossible, Dreznor's grin grew even wider. "No." He snapped his fingers, and in a flash the Death Knight was behind Ryden.

"Seize him." Dreznor commanded. The scuffle that happened next took place over a total of ten seconds.

The massive Death Knight was at least half again Ryden's size, but the fighter was more agile and dexterous than his assailant. As the Death Knight's arms circled around Ryden's neck and attempted to strangle him into unconsciousness, Ryden ducked under the trunk-thick limbs and spun around, delivering a lightning-quick knee to the Death Knight's crotch.

His kneecap impacted against the dark warrior's plate armor, but the Death Knight hardly seemed fazed at all. With a sadistic grin, the Death Knight thrust a hand forward, intending to grab Ryden by the throat. The smaller warrior evaded the blow easily and used the Death Knight's bent knee as leverage, stepping onto it and executing what would have been a lethal decapitation kick against an ordinary warrior towards the Death Knight's chin.

It only stunned the Death Knight for a moment. As the massive warrior staggered backward and clutched at his jaw, Ryden took the opportunity to dart around him and dash into the forest.

"Do not let him escape!" He heard Dreznor roar distantly behind him. He risked a split-second to glance backwards, and he could see the Necromancer raising his staff towards him, the shaft glowing with dark power before unimaginable pain wracked his limbs.

Screaming, the fighter fell to the ground as his muscles spasmed and quaked involuntarily, his arms and legs convulsing in nameless agony. Painfully, he rolled onto his back, his limbs still quivering.

The Death Knight had recovered from Ryden's strike, and he was staring at the helpless warrior with an expression of utter fury on his face. Dreznor and the Necromancer were walking towards him with sadistic grins, and the Beastmistress had suddenly appeared next to him, Astella's body still lying over her shoulder. A slender hand cupped his chin, and Ryden, still in pain and very much unable to defend himself, could only stare in defeat as the Beastmistress forced him to look at her and drew a small but sharp dagger, pressing it against his cheek.

With a quick slice, Ryden cried out as the dagger drew blood, and it dripped onto the Beastmistress' waiting hand. Standing up, the Beastmistress strode over to where Dreznor was waiting.

From where Ryden was lying he could still see the Beastmistress proffer the hand that was stained with his blood to Dreznor, and he observed as Dreznor extended a finger and scooped out a bit of the blood. Watching in disgust, Ryden witnessed Dreznor lifting the bloodstained finger to his mouth and stretching out his tongue, tasting the blood.

The Dreadlord stiffened, and his head snapped in Ryden's direction. Though the fighter couldn't quite believe it at first, he could have sworn that Dreznor's expression was one of shock and awe.

"Cezarus, bring the boy along. It seems that we've got ourselves quite a catch here." Dreznor said to the Death Knight. He nodded and strode over to Ryden, who was still struggling with the pain and attempting to get up. With a swift move, Cezarus conked Ryden over the head with the blunt edge of his runeblade. The fighter fell over onto his side, out cold. Cezarus then bent down and hoisted Ryden's limp body over his shoulder.

The Necromancer then muttered a few incantations under his breath, before twirling his staff in an even circle. A portal of darkness appeared before them, and the Necropolis members strode through with their captives.

* * *

_He is… of Drac… no?_

…_es, my lord. We fou… wit… ella. They were … ttacked by Smith. Perha… rophecy is tru…_

_We sha… ee soon enou… eznor._

The voices were fading in and out, and seemed to be coming from far away, but Ryden fought against the throbbing pain in his head and forced open his eyes, trying to see who was speaking.

"Ah, he awakens." A new voice, one he hadn't heard before. Painfully turning his head to where he had heard the voice coming from, he saw Dreznor standing next to a man whose skin was even paler than the Dreadlord's, and was clad in red, flowing robes that radiated magical power so great it was almost tangible. His head was bald, and a number of runes had been tattooed onto his scalp and face.

Instinct took over, and Ryden immediately attempted to bolt to his feet, only to realize that he was bound to some kind of metallic examination table by iron shackles.

The robed magician noticed Ryden's struggles, and he chuckled in a manner that sounded as if he was merely watching a hamster running around its wheel. "Save your strength, boy. Not even your father would be able to break those restraints." He stated, walking towards the warrior.

Realizing that his efforts were futile, Ryden reluctantly let up and stopped struggling. He stiffened as the magician laid a hand over his forehead, muttering something under his breath. A few tense moments later, the magician removed his hand, and Ryden wondered if he hadn't cast any spell that was designed to slowly scramble his brain and turn him into a vegetable.

"I didn't think it possible, Dreznor, but it appears that you are right. This boy is indeed the son of Dracon." The sorcerer said, turning around to face the Dreadlord.

Dreznor grinned with an 'I told you so' expression, but he remained silent.

Ryden opened his mouth to speak, but to his utter shock as he tried to articulate words only silence emerged from his mouth. Horrified, he began struggling again, attempting to bring his hands to his throat and find out just what the hell was going on.

The wizard sighed and waved a hand. Suddenly a cry erupted from Ryden's throat, and he abruptly stopped struggling, realizing that he had regained his ability to speak.

He snapped his head in the wizard's direction, and demanded, "Ok, who are you, where am I, and what have you done to me?"

Dreznor and the wizard both chuckled, and the Dreadlord said, "My boy, you are in no position to be making demands. But, as seeing that you could very well be joining our cause soon, I suppose we could cut you some slack." He turned to the wizard, who started to introduce himself.

"I am Sindri, the only Chaos Sorcerer of Bera in this age and one of the Jr. Masters of Necropolis. Pleased to make your acquaintance, son of Dracon." Ryden was slightly taken aback at the sudden manners, but he decided to bite back a vulgar retort anyway.

"Ok, so are you going to let me go now? And where am I anyway?" He asked instead.

"You are in Necropolis' headquarters, situated deep within Omega Sector. Dreznor brought you back, along with your cleric friend Astella. Not to worry, her condition is stable now; she will live. As to your question of when we'll let you go… well, now that you've recovered from those unpleasant side effects of that Cripple spell our Necromancer cast on you I suppose we could release you now." Sindri waved a hand again, and the shackles snapped open.

Ryden was on his feet in a flash, rolling off the table in a blur of movement and watching Sindri carefully, his hands held out in front of him and balled into fists, ready to fight.

The Chaos Sorcerer laughed, and he unexpectedly smiled at Ryden as though he was trying to calm a child throwing a tantrum. "Calm yourself, boy. We are not going to harm you, not in the least. It appears that Dreznor here made the mistake of being too rough with you, but rest assured such errors will not be made again. If we wanted to kill you we could have done so hours ago."

Partially convinced that he could trust the sorcerer, Ryden hesitantly let his guard down. Sindri then beckoned to Dreznor, who promptly moved over to his senior's side. From where Ryden was standing he couldn't hear what Sindri was whispering to Dreznor in hushed tones, but he saw the Dreadlord glance at him for a moment with a look of anticipation, and he shuddered inwardly with the possibilities of what they could be planning.

Finally Sindri turned to Ryden and said, "We believe it is time that you received a proper introduction to our guild. Perhaps when you know better you will see that it is your destiny to join us. Dreznor will take you through the initiate's course; there you will learn of our plans."

The Dreadlord stepped forward and, suddenly seeming a lot less menacing, beckoned towards Ryden. Finally deciding to trust them, he followed Dreznor through a nearby door, and into Necropolis' inner chambers.

* * *

Several rooms and corridors later, the two emerged out into a bustling street. As Ryden finally recognized the tall skyscrapers that he and Dreznor were walking next to, he realized that somehow they had been transported to Kerning City. 

A moment later he got over his shock; with the hacks that Necropolis had been using, it was probable that they could teleport to anywhere they wanted on a whim.

"I believe that you have heard bits and pieces of stories about the server from the Agents?" Dreznor asked the warrior beside him. Ryden nodded, remembering what Smith had said about the war between Koaxia and the Game Masters, and he kept pace with the Dreadlord, coming to a stop at a traffic junction.

They stood in silence for a moment before the traffic lights turned from green to red, and the red man turned green. On the other side of the road a whole slew of people from all job classes started to cross the street, while Ryden and Dreznor were the only two going against the proverbial flow.

"The server is a system, Ryden." Dreznor explained to him, effortlessly weaving through the crowds of people that were blocking his way. "That system is our enemy."

The crowd thickened, and Ryden nearly lost the Dreadlord due to the sheer number of people crowding around him. Pushing and dodging his way past some magicians who seemed strangely oblivious to his presence, Ryden finally caught up with Dreznor.

"But, when you're inside, you look around, what do you see?" Dreznor continued, gesturing at the crowd around him. "Warriors, archers, thieves, magicians. The very minds of the people we are trying to liberate. But until we do, those people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy."

Even as Dreznor continued his monologue while effortlessly wending his way through the crowd, Ryden tried his best to keep up while minimizing collisions with thieves and archers that, like the earlier magicians, seemed unnervingly oblivious to his presence.

"You have to understand, Ryden, that most of these people are not yet ready to join an organization such as ours. And many of them are so inert, so hopelessly _dependent_ on the system, that they will fight to protect it." In a small gap in the crowd, Ryden finally managed to catch sight of Dreznor and attempted to catch up again.

He would have, if not for the sudden entry of a beautiful woman clad in a revealing red dress. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Ryden in the slightest, but he was distracted due to the fact that this woman bore a startling resemblance to Astella, and she was looking and smiling at him flirtatiously.

She walked right past him in an instant, her gaze on him all the time, and Ryden missed out half of what Dreznor had said, his attention solely focused on the mysterious woman. When she disappeared into the crowd, Ryden finally remembered where he was and turned forward to see Dreznor looking at him with a knowing smile.

"Were you listening to me, Ryden? Or were you looking at the woman in the red dress?" The Dreadlord asked.

Ryden fumbled with an excuse, trying to come up with something that didn't make him sound like a colossal pervert. "I-I was…"

Gesturing behind him, Dreznor simply said, "Look again."

Curious to see what the Dreadlord was referring to, Ryden turned around, and was rewarded with the up-close sight of a crossbow bolt's sharp end, leveled at his head and ready to fire. Behind the crossbow he could see a menacing-looking man decked out in federal attire, complete with suit and tie, and sporting a pair of jet-black sunglasses not unlike Smith's.

Ryden registered this all in a split-second before he recoiled and ducked for cover.

Dreznor simply snapped his fingers and the entire city literally grinded to a halt. People halted in mid-step, water stopped in mid-flow, birds froze in mid-flight, and the mysterious man turned into an immobile statue that didn't budge an inch.

Ryden stared around him, amazed. "This… this isn't Kerning City?"

"No. It's our initiation simulation, designed to teach new members one thing." Dreznor stated, walking next to the immobile fed-man, who still had his crossbow leveled at where Ryden's head used to be. "If you are not one of us, then you are one of them."

"What are they?" Ryden asked, interested to know.

"The Game Masters' subordinates. They can move in and out of any location still hardwired to the server. That means that any place that we haven't warded against portal hacks potentially has an Agent in it. Inside the server, they are everywhere, and they are nowhere." Dreznor told him. "So far hackers have survived by hiding from them, by running from them. But they are the gatekeepers. They are guarding all the doors, they are holding all the keys, which means that sooner or later, someone is going to have to fight them."

"Someone?" Ryden asked. Somehow he felt that this explanation was going somewhere…

"I won't lie to you, Ryden. Every single man or woman who has stood their ground, everyone who has fought an Agent has died. But where they have failed, we shall succeed." Dreznor stated proudly.

"Why?"

"I have seen an Agent punch through a concrete wall, men have thrown countless attacks at them and hit nothing but air. Yet their strength and their speed are still based in a world that is built on rules. Because of that, they will never be as strong or as fast as we can be."

Ryden contemplated what the Dreadlord had just said. Glancing at the frozen Agent standing in front of him, he wondered aloud, "What are you trying to tell me? That you can dodge arrows and shurikens?"

Dreznor broke out into a wide, fanged grin. "No, Ryden. I'm trying to tell you that if you join us, you won't have to."

Dreznor continued walking and entered a building, Ryden following close behind. They climbed up several stories before coming to a set of wooden double doors. Dreznor pushed the doors open, revealing an unfurnished room that simply had a single metallic box sitting on a small table in the center of the room.

Dreznor walked over to the box, pulling it open, and he dug something out of it before closing it. Turning back to Ryden, he said, "This is your last chance, son of Dracon. After this there is no turning back."

Dreznor extended both hands, and he opened the left palm, revealing a small, oval-shaped blue pill. "You take the blue pill, this story ends, you wake up in Sleepywood and have never been here."

He then opened up his right palm; revealing a nearly identical pill to the one in his left, save for the fact that this one was colored red. "You take the red pill, you stay here with us, and we shall show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."

Ryden stared at the two pills, trying to decide. Here, right in front of him was a chance to finally be with Astella, but was he willing to forsake his very morals and principles merely to be with his lover?

There was no contest. Ryden was a man of honor, like his father, so he raised his right hand and took the blue pill, downing it in a single gulp.

Dreznor's features settled into disappointment, and he said in a saddened tone, "I am sorry that you will not be joining us, son of Dracon. Perhaps we were wrong about you."

Suddenly Ryden started to feel drowsy, but before he could even start to wonder what the hell they had spiked the pill with, he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

* * *

As consciousness slowly returned to him, Ryden groggily opened his eyes and was greeted with a mouthful of grass… at least, it tasted like grass, though Ryden had never had the chance to dine on vegetation that sprouted out of the ground. 

He immediately shot up and spat the vile taste out of his mouth, grabbing at his water pouch and gargling a mouthful of water before spitting it out, gagging on the foul after-taste.

_Great, they just had to dump me here alone…_ Ryden thought to himself. He was grateful though, that Dreznor had kept to his word on transporting him to Sleepywood. The mystical forest that surrounded the entrance to the Ant Tunnel greeted him, and he was grateful for one to have a familiar background to find his way around.

His PDA beeped again, and he dug it out of his pocket, flipping it open.

Merth's face appeared on the digital screen, worried and frowning. "Ryden, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for hours."

_Oops._ In all the excitement Ryden had totally forgotten that Merth was waiting for him. "Sorry, Merth. I got a bit… held up. It was Necropolis."

Merth looked at him in amazement, wondering how the hell he had managed to survive an encounter with their rival guild when he was alone. "I see… well, good to see that you're all right. I'm still waiting at Henesys; meet me at the marketplace."

"Got it." Ryden flipped his PDA closed and got to his feet, looking for the familiar pathways that would lead him to the town of the bowmen.

A few moments after he left, a portion of the air rippled for a moment before a Fel Rogue and a Beastmaster emerged from the distortion.

"So are we going to kill him or what? My blade thirsts for his blood." The Rogue ground out, his eyes glinting manically with a bloodlust that was more befitting a Bloodthirster.

The male Beastmaster sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, Brom? Lord Dreznor wants us to _track_ the boy, so that he will lead us to his guild's headquarters. _Then_ we get to kill him; along with every single member in that pathetic guild they call Last Hope. So hold your damned horses until then. Got it?"

The Beastmaster's tone brooked no argument, and the Fel Rogue fell silent. The Beastmaster bent down to the ground, whispering an incantation under his breath, and soon enough a pair of Lupins and three Curse Eyes came in front of them, awaiting the order from their master.

"Track the boy, but make sure that he does not know of your presence." The Beastmaster said to the monsters. Their eyes glazed over, and they mindlessly bowed to him before departing to track down the fighter.

The Fel Rogue glared disdainfully at the Beastmaster, saying, "You know I hate it when you do that, Leoroxx. It's bad enough that you rely on wild beasts to do your dirty work; I'd rather track that damned fighter down myself."

The Beastmaster stared back at the rogue with an offended expression. "Brom, you know it is the Beastmaster's nature to influence the creatures of the wild to their advantage. If you hate us that much you might as well form an anti-Beastmaster army and wipe us all out. Now if you don't mind, shut the hell up and let me do my work."

Leoroxx then turned away and began to stride off into the forest, when out of the blue a bronze arrow suddenly impaled him through the neck. The Beastmaster toppled to the ground, choking and grabbing at his ruined throat, and Brom cursed at the sudden attack. Instantly activating Dark Sight and wrapping the shadows around himself, he glanced around for a few moments, trying to judge the location of their attacker.

Suddenly four arrows buried themselves in the dirt right next to his feet, and Brom bit back the urge to cry out in surprise. He was in Dark Sight, for Balrog's sake, _how the hell could his attacker see where he was???_

Not taking any more chances, Brom turned tail and ran off into the forest, intent on tracking Ryden alone. With Leoroxx dead his control over the monsters would surely fade; Brom would have to do this himself.

As Leoroxx's corpse twitched and spasmed in its final moments of death, a hunter's silhouette fell over it. The hunter kicked the corpse once, making sure that it was dead, and it holstered the Olympus it carried in its left hand.

The hunter then snapped his PDA out of its thigh pocket and flipped it open. He punched in a few numbers, and a few seconds later the face of a female cleric came up on the screen.

"Iris, I've managed to find Ryden. Unfortunately, a bit too late. Necropolis has already begun to track him to your headquarters. I managed to kill one of the trackers, but the other got away from me." The hunter said.

The cleric sighed on the other end of the connection. "Very well. I shall tighten our headquarters' security measures and place the guards on general alert. Thank you for your services, Zeraion. An extra bonus will be added to your payment if you manage to ensure that Ryden reaches our headquarters alive."

"The money is of no concern to me." The hunter replied. "With Gault already on the loose I don't want anything else going wrong with the world. I'll be waiting in Henesys for my payment."

"Yes. Right now Ryden is on his way to meet with one of my guild's Jr. Masters, Merth, who is also in Henesys. You may meet with him to collect your payment."

"Will do." Zeraion Phoenix, level 54 Hunter and hired mercenary of Last Hope, severed the connection and smoothly placed the PDA back in his pocket. Sighing, he once again took his bow in hand and took off running in the direction the fighter had left Sleepywood.

Ryden was headed into a deathtrap, and it was Zeraion's responsibility to ensure he made it out alive.

* * *

A/N: A little correction. Smithosian was based on Smith&W3sson, a Bandit. The first guy in MapleSEA to get banned for hacking. Once again, a reminder: 3 Reviews every chapter Confirmed Updates. 


	6. The Fall of Last Hope

Disclaimer: I don't own... you know the rest...

* * *

A/N: Master here. Cos the Chief got banned from using his PC until February I'll be doing the next chapter instead. So, here it is.

* * *

Chapter 6: The Fall of Last Hope

Merth's eyebrow twitched impatiently, pacing back and forth as Roxi lounged on her Relaxer next to him.

"Really Merth, don't you think you're being a tad too impatient? Ryden's at Sleepywood; you can't expect him to walk all the way here in a few minutes! He'll be here, so stop pacing! You're driving me crazy!" She said to him.

Merth scowled but did not look at her. "Roxi, I don't know why but I've got a bad feeling about this. Call me crazy, but I think today's not going to be a good one. And if Ryden doesn't get here sooner it's gonna get a whole lot worse."

Roxi stared at him in puzzlement before lying back on her chair. Merth had been acting unusually paranoid since morning, when Ryden went missing momentarily before turning up in Sleepywood. He kept behaving as though the end of the world was imminent, though so far nothing had seemed amiss.

Suddenly a level 54 Hunter came up to them and asked, "Excuse me, are you Jr. Master Merth from Last Hope?"

Startled, the assassin replied, "Yes. Why?"

The Hunter pulled out his identity tag. "My name is Zeraion Phoenix. I was hired by your Guild Master Iris to ensure Ryden's safe passage to your guild headquarters from here. She has already promised me payment, and I'm here to collect it."

Merth raised an eyebrow skeptically before snapping out his PDA and checking his guild's status window. A few moments later he nodded and replaced it back in his pocket.

"All right, you'll get your payment. But first, let me ask you; just where is Ryden?" The hunter jammed a thumb over his shoulder, and suddenly Ryden appeared from behind him, panting and gasping for breath. Evidently he had been running a very long way.

"Sorry I… took so long, Merth… I swear… I'm going to… stock up on Return Scrolls… from now on…" The fighter gasped out in between pants, and as he finally caught his breath and straightened up, he noticed the hunter standing next to him. "Who are you?"

"Zeraion Phoenix. Your guild master has hired me to make sure you get to your guild headquarters safely." The archer answered.

"Two first names? That's a lot to wrap a tongue around. Just Zer will do for now." Zeraion rolled his eyes, exasperated that everyone was remarking on his two first names.

"Well then Zeraion, here's your initial payment. You'll get the rest once we reach HQ." Merth dug out a large bag of gold and a thick wad of notes, handing them to the hunter.

Zeraion accepted the money, and he weighed the bag for a moment before counting through the notes. A few seconds later he looked up them and smiled. "All right… all of the fifty-thousand promised. My friends, you have yourselves a bodyguard."

* * *

"Here it is." Merth said as they came to a large bunch of flowers at the 3-way Split-Road. 

"Wait a minute… Merth, isn't this the entrance to the Pig Beach?" Ryden asked as he stared at the hidden portal.

"No Ryden, you're looking at the wrong flower. That flower leads to Pig Beach, _this_ flower leads to our HQ." Merth then grabbed a hold of the flower that was right next to the one Ryden thought the assassin was referring to, and he disappeared from sight.

_Oh god… how am I going to remember which flower it is next time I come here?_ Ryden thought to himself as he grabbed a hold of the same flower and felt the signature jerk behind his navel as the teleporting effects of the portal took hold of him and transported him to wherever the portal led to.

A few seconds later his vision unscrambled itself and reassembled into some form of order, while his head stopped spinning. Stumbling forward slightly, he noticed Merth some distance ahead of him, walking towards a coast-side citadel. If there were one phrase to describe the scenery it would be 'postcard perfect'.

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue with thin cirrus clouds and large, fluffy cumulus clouds dotting it. The beach that the citadel was erected next to was comparable to Florina; the sand was a fine pearly-white, and palm trees were scattered intermittently throughout the beach. The citadel itself was grand; built like a classic castle that one would normally find from fairy tales and the like.

Roxi and Zeraion came through the portal behind him, following Merth.

"So this is your guild citadel. Nice place." Zeraion muttered to Ryden as they caught up with Merth.

"Yeah… but to be honest, I've never been here before." Ryden admitted.

Suddenly a shrill shrieking filled the air; Merth immediately took off towards the guild's citadel, panic setting itself onto his face. There was no mistaking the air raid siren.

Ryden muttered a quiet "What the…" under his breath before running after Merth, Roxi and Zeraion hot on his heels.

By the time they reached the citadel gates, guards were already storming out of their barracks. Merth put two fingers in his mouth and blew a loud whistle. The guards didn't stop in their tracks, but after a few moments an archer that had three chevrons stenciled onto his Legolier's sleeve came up to him.

"Sergeant, just what the hell is going on here? Why is the siren sounding?" Merth asked.

"Enemy airships, sir. It's Necropolis. I don't know how, but they've managed to discover our citadel's location." The archer replied, already getting out his bow and stringing it.

"What! How could that have happened? Our citadel's location is top-secret; only guild members know about it!" Merth exclaimed.

"I know why." Everyone turned to Zeraion, who had his Olympus leveled at Ryden, arrow already set and pointed at the fighter's head.

"Zer, what the hell are you doing?" Ryden asked carefully, not moving a muscle.

Zeraion simply let the arrow loose, and Roxi screamed in horror as the arrow speared through the air towards her friend.

The arrow never hit him. Instead, it whizzed past his ear and, while it should have impacted against the stonewall behind him with a dull 'thud', it instead hit something else with a weird 'splut'.

Ryden whirled around, and he saw the body of a Fel Rogue collapse to the ground right behind him, dagger in hand and Zeraion's arrow impaled through his throat.

"What the… holy crap Zer, you just saved my life!" Ryden tried to calm his fiercely beating heart as he turned to the hunter.

Zeraion simply holstered his Olympus and said, "No problem. Just doing my job."

Suddenly the sirens started up again, and the skies were filled with airships, each with the symbol of Necropolis emblazoned onto their hulls. Finally Merth spoke, "Hey guys, we'd better go inside. Better let the guards handle this."

Ryden nodded and the four of them entered the citadel, the archer running off to join his unit in the defense of Last Hope.

* * *

_"Citadel Command, this is Four-One. We're reading another airship touching down. We have heavy casualties, enemy units still moving in on the citadel. Please advise." _

_"Hold your position, Four-One. We are mobilizing citadel defenses but we need more time to evacuate the lower-leveled guild members."_

_"Roger, Command, we'll do our best. How the hell did Necropolis find out where we are?"

* * *

_

The air raid sirens continued to sound, and the assigned guards of Last Hope scurried around like ants, rushing to their assigned posts.

A loud, anxious voice broadcasted over the PA system. _"Alert! The citadel is under attack! All units, man your stations. Citadel Guards, you are cleared to mobilize and engage enemies. Gunnery crews, you are authorized to fire at incoming hostiles. Area, evacuate non-combat personnel to evac point Echo immediately!"_

Rathiel Zephron, level 92 Ranger, rushed into the armory and yanked open the door to his locker, hurriedly donning his Red Ades and grabbing his Metus. He shouldered a couple of quivers of arrows for his bow, each quiver carrying half a thousand arrows.

He then donned his headset, a standard-issue piece of communications equipment for everyone who signed up for the guard's posting. Tuning his comm to the correct channel, he saw that his entire party was also in their respective armories, suiting up for battle.

"Sigma Lead, this is Sigma Two. Any idea what we're up against?" A smooth, tart female voice came over the comm. Rathiel smiled at the voice; trust the sound of his younger sister Ariel to always lift his spirits whenever things were going badly.

"We're under attack by Necropolis, Ariel. Probably throwing everything they've got at us."

"Isn't the location of this citadel secret? How did they manage to find us?" Ariel asked, confused.

"It was inevitable. Everything has changed." Rathiel strung his Metus and cast Soul Arrow. Stepping out of the armory and into the bright sunlight outside, he issued the order his team was all too used to hearing.

"Sigma Party, form up on my lead."

Even as he ran out of the armory, a level 76 female Fire Mage followed from behind him, along with a level 68 male Page.

"Central Guard, this is Sigma Party leader. We're moving out." Rathiel spoke into the comm.

_"Roger that, Sigma Party leader. We've got the non-combatants loaded onto the transports, but we can't depart until those Crimson Balrogs are taken out."_

Suddenly a volley of dark energy balls materialized in the distance, and they hurtled straight towards them.

"Incoming projectiles; get clear," Ariel shouted into the comm. "Look out, get away from the armory!"

Rathiel immediately sprinted towards his left while Ariel ran towards her right, but unfortunately the Page had covered only a few dozen meters of ground away from the armory before the energy balls impacted against the building, and he disappeared in an explosion of blue-white energy, followed by an enormous secondary explosion as the armory detonated behind them.

"Get track of those damned Balrogs!" Rathiel shouted as he summoned a Soul Arrow and strung it into his bow.

"I got track!" Ariel yelled back over the cacophony of battle a few seconds later.

"Take 'em out!"

Several fireballs shot out from Ariel's palm as she cast Explosion multiple times. Rathiel in turn unleashed Inferno and Arrow Rain repeatedly at the distant shapes of the Crimson Balrogs.

A few seconds later, three of the eight Balrogs dropped out of the air while another four of them vanished in an immense firestorm. "Impact!" Ariel reported.

"Nice shot, Sig 2! All right, on my mark, we break off and head to Central Courtyard." Rathiel instructed.

Ariel moved to comply, when suddenly her internal alarms started to blare out warnings at her. She glanced around in quickly for a few seconds before sighting what was causing it; three Balrog fireballs were headed straight for her.

"Incoming." She stated into the comm, feeling strangely calm. The fireballs were approaching at a speed that dodging was impossible, and even her magic guard would be unable to handle three fireballs at once. Not that she could even cast it, anyway; her mana reserves were depleted from her repeated castings of Explosion, and she didn't have any blue potions with her.

"Activate your Magic Guard!" Rathiel shouted.

"No can do, Rath… I'm out of mana. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes and waited for the impact.

"Teleport! Get outta there!" Too late. Even as the words left his mouth he watched as his sister was consumed in a combined explosion of three simultaneous fireballs. He clenched his jaw and screamed a denial through gritted teeth, dropping his Metus and falling to his knees.

Shutting his eyes tightly and refusing to let the tears come out, he pressed the receiver of his headset to his ear and tried to speak.

"… S-Sig 2, this is Party Leader, do you read? Ariel! Can you hear me?" There was no response, but he couldn't have really expected one anyway. In the aftermath of the explosion, only blackened and charred earth remained.

His sister was dead, but he was still alive. And he still had to do his duty as a Citadel Guard. Getting to his feet and picking up his Metus, he swallowed the bile in his throat before setting off for Central Courtyard.

"Central Guard, this is Sigma Leader. What's your status?" He enquired through the radio. Nothing but static greeted him.

Rathiel cursed under his breath and switched channels, maintaining his speed as he sprinted towards his destination. "Command, this is Sigma Leader. I've lost contact with Central Guard."

Again, he heard nothing but static. Rathiel swore and resisted the temptation to tear off the headset and crush it beneath his foot. Either the radio channels were downed or jammed, or he was the only survivor left.

He rounded a corner, and saw that something big had just barreled through the citadel walls and into the Central Courtyard; there was an immense hole the size of a Taurospear through the wall. Cautiously making his way to the hole, he stepped through it and stared in shock and dismay at the sight that greeted him.

Necropolis members were scattered throughout the Courtyard, leisurely strolling around, and as fleeing transports containing innocent players attempted to run, the Necropolis members took casual potshots at them and destroyed them in a laid-back manner. A Warlock easily overturned a nearby truck that was full of the guild's beginners with merely a flick of his staff, and he proceeded to slaughter the innocents that frantically piled out of the truck with several insidious spells. Some of the Beginners erupted into flames, their screaming bodies flailing and leaping about, while others halted in their tracks and cried out in nameless agony as their very flesh sloughed off from their bones, until all that was left was a silently screaming skeleton standing in the middle of a pool of blood and liquefied flesh.

The Ranger continued to stare in horror. "... Enemy unit sighted." Rathiel finally spoke into a comm channel that had no one else left on the other end to hear him.

"I have contact with main enemy force inside Central Courtyard." He set his jaw, strung four arrows into his Metus, and prepared to go out in a blaze of glory. "I will delay them here as long as I can." He pulled the arrows back, blinked once, and unleashed a Strafe attack at the nearest Necropolis member.

The arrows impaled the Necromancer through the chest, but even as the dark magician's limp corpse toppled to the ground, his comrades whirled to face the unexpected threat. Dark Rangers, Warlocks and Dreadlords immediately turned to face him and unleashed countless attacks upon the lone Ranger.

Rathiel sprinted towards his right, dodging the attacks, repeatedly unleashing Strafe even as he ran. For a moment he felt confident; perhaps he could defeat them. He had the element of surprise!

His bravado immediately evaporated when one of the Dark Rangers shouted, "Black Arrow!" and fired off a dark projectile that impaled itself in his knee. Rathiel cried out in pain as he staggered forward, his knee feeling as though it was on fire. Even as he regained his balance and continued firing, he could feel the corruptive effects of the Black Arrow spreading thourgh his leg; it was steadily growing numb, and the flesh was rotting, turning a necrotic brown.

Despite the pain, he continued to push on, staggering sideways and doing his best to dodge the shots of the Necropolis members. He drew out another four arrows and prepared to fire off another Strafe attack, when a bolt of black lightning created by a Necromancer impacted against his torso. White-hot fire and mind-numbing cold spread through his body simultaneously as Rathiel screamed again, and he dropped the arrows that he was stringing onto his Metus.

He nearly dropped to his knees, but barely managed to stay on his feet. With shaky hands, he struggled to pull out another arrow, determined to take the bastards down with him.

Another bolt of black lightning impacted against his chest, and he dropped the arrow, this time along with his bow. He no longer had the breath or the voice to scream; though his mind yelled at him to pick up his weapon and take them down to hell with him, his body had other things in mind. The fight left his body, and he fell to his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open. It hurt even just to breathe.

Raising his head slightly, he saw the lead Warlock raise his hand, an immense ball of demonic fire sitting on his palm and ready to be fired. Rathiel closed his eyes, and waited to join his sister.

The Ranger was incinerated as the fireball scored a direct hit, and only ashes were left as the inferno died down. With the last vestiges of resistance eliminated, the Necropolis members strode through the Courtyard and entered the Citadel, unhindered.

Last Hope was doomed.

* * *

Several hours later, with Necropolis departed and the citadel in ruins, a pile of rubble within the immense wreckage shifted. 

With a grunt, Zeraion Phoenix pushed aside the debris, climbing out of the rubble pile he had been buried under, along with a few others. A female cleric climbed up after him a few seconds later, dragging the limp body of a fighter behind her.

"Zeraion, could you help me with this? Ryden isn't exactly the lightest warrior around." Iris panted as she hauled up the fighter's body and deposited him on the ground next to Zeraion's feet.

"Would you rather carry him, or have to move aside these rocks yourself?" Zeraion simply said. Iris kept silent, obviously knowing which of the two was easier to manage.

Suddenly Zeraion held up a hand with his palm out at her. Iris immediately froze; it was Zeraion's signal that enemies were close by. Slowly, the hunter rotated his hand until his palm was pointing towards the floor, and he moved it up and down slightly.

Iris flattened herself onto the ground, taking care to cover Ryden's body, and Zeraion drew out his Olympus, stringing a single Soul Arrow into it.

"Iris, don't make a move until I tell you to do so." The hunter murmured. Iris nodded, and Zeraion pointed his bow over her.

"_Gotcha._" He whispered before suddenly pointing his bow to the sky and launching two arrows high into the air. He then immediately shifted his aim back towards where he was aiming previously and quickly fired off two consecutive Double Shots.

The four arrows were suddenly knocked aside in mid-air by invisible blades, and two level 65 Fel Rogues emerged from the shadows, their Dark Sight deactivated.

"We demand that you hand over the warrior. Now." The first Rogue barked.

Zeraion smirked cockily. "And if I don't?"

"Then we shall kill you. Painfully." The second stated.

The hunter tilted his head to the sky. "If you really want to do that, I'd suggest you do it now. Because you have about... two seconds left."

The Fel Rogues looked at each other confusedly for a second before charging forward. They hadn't covered more than three metres when the two Soul Arrows Zeraion had launched into the air suddenly came down and drove their spectral arrowheads through the Rogues' craniums.

Their limp corpses toppled to the ground, and Zeraion holstered his bow. He signaled for Iris to stand up, and she got to her feet.

"Is there any way to contact the Four Wise Men from here?" Zeraion asked. Iris shook her head sadly, and Zeraion sighed. It would be a long trip to Henesys if they had to drag Ryden's body all the way there, and with the nasty bump the fighter had sustained, he would probably be out cold for several hours, if not days. There had to be some form of a shortcut, but currently neither of them had any return scrolls.

"No need for that, Zeraion. We're already here." A familiar female voice suddenly answered from behind them.

The Hunter whirled around and was greeted by the welcome sight of Athena Pierce smiling at him, along with the hulking Dances with Balrog, the floating Grendel, and the shadowy Dark Lord.

"It seems we arrived just in time."

* * *

A/N: An hour later... 

Rodriguez Smithsonian J. Gustav III cautiously paced through the wreckage of what was once the most beautiful of structures in all of Bera. The once glistening walls were now charred soot-black. The mighty gun-turrets and ramparts were all but smashed. The great gates which were once described as inssailable now lay as pieces of matchwood, scattered throughout. All around were the dead bodies of the warriors of Last Hope, the grim determination of defending their citadel still plastered on their faces, even in death.

Not that they needed it. The place reeked of hacks. Statistic hacks that boosted one's physical prowess tenfold, speed hacks that gave one unnaturally heightened agility, health point hacks which gave unlimited vitality, and the pride of Necropolis, the hacks which re-wrote the A.I. scripts of the monsters, turning them into mere pet-slaves. There was no way that the ordinary players of Last Hope could have stood up to this onslaught.

Smith had seen it coming. He knew exactly what Necropolis would do. He knew how, where and when they would strike. Not that he really cared what happened to Last Hope, or Bera, for that matter. His fight was with one person, and when that was done, his job would be done, and he could get on with life.

Scanning the massacre site for any unexploded mines or untriggered traps, Smith found what he was looking for - a survivor. The poor man's uniform was charred beyond recognition, and his exposed skin didn't look very much better. Survivors had been surprisingly hard to find. Necropolis had been thorough, furiously so. Smith approved, even if it meant spending an extra hour looking for survivors. To be fair, the man would have died even if Smith hadn't found him. But his life didn't matter to Smith. He was after something else.

Touching the man briefly, Smith smiled. Each player left logs of whatever he had seen, done, and whoever the person had interacted with. More accurate than interrogation, it allowed the trained eye to take a peek into that player's mind and thoughts. Smith studied the logs, then, his mission complete, he turned to leave.

_It seems someone has been using Koaxia's basic level 'Speed' and 'God-Mode' hacks. Descartes has some explaining to do._

Speaking of hackers, Smith wondered why, despite the mass abusal of hacks and the perpetual disruption in the server's normal functionings going on in this area, there were no Agents. He got his answers soon enough. Two Agents lay dead on the sand a click in front of him. They wore red armbands, signalling their mastery of their weapon, the Deathbringer, and their elitism in the corps.

_No surprise. Although I was expecting more than just two. The four wise blokes must really be having a lack in manpower._

Then, an immense Balrog plunged down from the sky, roaring and gnashing at Smith. Its A.I. script had been re-written to attack anything that moved except Necropolis members, and it was fulfilling that role almost gleefully. Not that Smith cared. As the Balrog charged forth, a flash of steel brightened up the beach which was, until a few moments ago, darkened with gloom and dread. The great beast stopped in its tracks.

Smith chuckled as he waltzed casually past the motionless Balrog. As he passed it, humongous cuts began to appear all over it, and it slumped onto the ground in a bloody mess. Not pausing to admire his handiwork, Smith carried on into the nearby woods. As the gentle sea breeze kicked up, Smith's muffler blew up to reveal a silver armband.

The armband of an Esparda.

_

* * *

_

A/N: A bit of background on Agents. There are 2 ranks: Basics, who wear blue armbands, and Elites, who wear red armbands. Each Agent has a standard-issue katana called a Deathbringer. Elites have a special ability called a First Release, which transforms his Deathbringer and heightens his power to incredible levels. Of course, there have been legends of a third, ulitmate rank, the Espardas. They have said to have mastered a Second Release, further doubling their power, but whether that is true or not, it has been lost to the sands of time.


	7. Legend in Training

Disclaimer: Don't own nothing... zzzzzz...

* * *

A/N: The plot really picks up here, action against Necropolis is now being taken. Ryden advances beyond the limits of a normal player, and now truly follows the path of his father. Review review review, I beg you!

* * *

Chapter 9: Legend-in-training

_He still looks pretty asleep to me..._

_The doctor did say he's supposed to be waking up anytime soon._

_Trust Kerning City's doctors to be of such poor standard. Dark Lord, didn't I tell you to hire new workers for Dr. Niora and renovate his hospital?_

_With the kind of income that the Assassins and Bandits bring in everyday, you shouldn't be surprised that I haven't had the money to renovate even the bar I live in, Athena..._

_Hey guys, look. He's stirring._

_About damned time. Trust Dracon's son to be such a heavy napper..._

_Dances, if I know my son to be anything like his father, he is _not _a heavy sleeper._

The last voice brought Ryden out of the abyss. It sounded strangely familiar, but it was one that he hadn't heard in months, years even. Struggling to open his eyes, his eyelids lifted themselves up a crack, and revealed the concerned faces of a small crowd.

Among those present he could see Roxi, Zeraion, Iris, the Four Wise Men, and...

"Mom?" The fighter croaked out disbelievingly, unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Yes son, it's me." Ceil said, giving Ryden a motherly smile.

"Where am I?"

"Dr. Niora's hospital, in Kerning City." The Dark Lord answered.

Slowly, painfully, Ryden forced himself up into a sitting position, noticing that he lay in a soft cot in a hospital ward.

Seeing her friend trying to get up, Roxi immediately moved to prop a second pillow behind Ryden's back to support him better. Ryden smiled his thanks, and turned to the Four Wise Men.

"So, it was you four who dragged me out of there?" He asked them.

Athena nodded, but added, "But, it was in no small part due to Zeraion's effort. If we hadn't found you with Zeraion when we did, you'd probably be dead by now."

Ryden turned to the archer, who merely nodded in confirmation.

"Thanks, Phoenix. Looks like I owe you another." Zeraion grinned and said it was no problem.

"That aside, it seems that we have hit a turning point in this conflict against Necropolis. Ryden, are you sure you still want to be a pacifist after your guild was massacred so?" Athena asked him. Ryden kept silent; he had been hoping to avoid sparking off a major conflict by not participating in any actions aimed directly to anger Necropolis, but now that his guild members had been so brutally slaughtered...

"No. Necropolis _will _pay for what it has done." Dances with Balrog let out a shout of jolly laughter at this, and he slapped down a meaty hand onto the fighter's shoulder, oblivious to the wince that his student made.

"Excellent, my boy! I knew you were just like your father. Ceil, aren't you proud of him?"

The priestess nodded, beaming at her son. "Yes. Everything will be as it was with Dracon."

"Indeed. And that will mean that what we planned for him to undertake forty levels later will have to be brought forward to now." Grendel stated.

Ryden stared at them in confusion. "Huh? What are you talking about? What am I supposed to undertake?"

Grendel then looked directly into Ryden eyes, the arresting orbs ensnaring Ryden's own with little to no effort. "Ryden, you know that your father was a legendary crusader, but have you ever wondered why he was so renowned throughout Bera?"

Ryden shook his head. "Not really. All I know are the stories that Mother told me..."

"Which is but a fraction of what Dracon had managed to accomplish." The Dark Lord interrupted. He nodded to Grendel, who then stepped forward and brought a small scroll out from the recesses of his robe.

"This scripture briefly describes the legend of Dracon. It is immediately followed by a prophecy, but I believe you should know more about your father first." The elder magician stated before starting to read off the scroll.

_Two decades ago, there was a war... between the world of Bera, and the other, the Underworld. But somebody from the guild that unsealed the Underworld woke up to justice, and stood up against this legion, alone._

_His name was Dracon. Later, he quietly reigned Bera and continued to preserve harmony, until his death._

_He became a legend. The Legendary Crusader, Dracon..._

By the time Grendel had finished, Ryden was off in a world of his own. It was not that he had been daydreaming, however; Grendel's scripture had sparked some sort of vision within him. In it he saw a dark figure surrounded by fire and demonic creatures. The figure had been assaulted from all directions by the demons, but he had effortlessly deflected all their attacks and brutally countered with his own, slaughtering the demons which sought to kill him. By the time Grendel had finished reading the scripture, all the demons in the vision had been slain, leaving the dark figure the sole survivor. And as the vision began to fade, he began to see the figure with more clarity; he saw that it carried a massive sword with a humongous cleaver-like blade, and in the vision's final moments, he realised with shock that he _recognised_ that silhouette...

It was his own.

Ryden came to his senses with a light gasp, and Grendel tucked the scroll back into his robe, oblivious to the young fighter's experience.

"When the server was first built, there was a man born inside, who had the ability to change whatever he wanted. To remake the server as he saw fit. It was he who freed the first of us, taught us the truth. After he died, the Oracle prophesized his return, and that his coming would hail the destruction of the hackers. End the war between them and the Game Masters. Bring order to the server." Athena explained. "That is why some of us have spent our entire lives searching the server, looking for him. When Dracon came to Perion, we believed that search to be over, but we realised our folly when we discovered the prophecy left behind by Dracon before he died." She gestured to Grendel, who then pulled yet another scroll from beneath his robe.

He began to recite the prophecy.

_Beyond the senses is the mind, and beyond the mind is reason, its essence.  
Beyond reason is the Spirit in man, and beyond that is the Spirit of the universe, the evolver of all._

_When the five senses and the mind are still, and reason itself rests in silence, then begins the Path supreme._

_In him are woven the sky and the earth and all the regions of the air, and in him rests the mind and all the powers of life and death.  
Know him as The One and leave aside all other words. He is the bridge of immortality._

_And when he is seen in his immanence and transcendence, then the ties that have bound the heart are unloosened, the doubts of the mind vanish, and the law of Karma works no more._

_From delusion lead him to Truth.  
__From darkness lead him to Light.  
__From death lead him to Immortality._

Ryden had trouble keeping his mouth closed when Grendel had finished. Finally regaining his ability to speak, he said, "So... who _is_ The One?"

Dances with Balrog looked straight into Ryden's eyes and answered, "It can be no one else but _you_, my boy. We have searched long and hard for you, and now that we have, we finally have a hope of stopping Necropolis."

Athena Pierce then signalled for everyone to leave the room. They complied and filed out of the ward quickly, leaving Ryden alone with his mother.

"So, mom... what now?" Ryden wondered.

Ceil just gave him a knowing smile and patted his knee. "Just get some rest, son. You're going to need it."

"For what?"

Ceil then walked over to the door and opened it. She left the room after giving Ryden two words.

"Your training."

* * *

A/N: Later that day. 

Ryden didn't know how how many days he'd been asleep. He didn't really care either. What he really wanted to know were two things: one, did anyone survive the massacre of Last Hope? And two, what on earth did they do to him? Well, whatever they did, he wanted it again, because now he was feeling like a million bucks.

"Good to see you awake, Ryden," a voice came from the corner. He recognized it, Athena Pierce, "Feeling all right?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better, thank you," he replied with all the courtesy his mother has imparted to him in his earlier, less hectic years.

"That's good. Come with me. I believe there is much you would like to know," she smiled, "Like what happened to Merth and the rest of Last Hope."

Ryden bit back a surprised gasp. The bowlady had read exactly what he was thinking.

"I thought so," Athena continued. With a snap of her fingers, the scenery around them changed to a totally new one, a white room with multiple screens all around. In the centre was a round table and four large easy chairs. On three of them sat the Dark Lord, Grendel and Dances with Balrogs.

"Welcome, Son of Dracon, to our secret clubhouse!" Dances with Balrog greeted with open arms, only to receive a jab in the ribs from Grendel, "Alright, alright. This isn't a secret clubhouse, it's more of the central command centre for all of Bera."

"Central command centre? Like the one in the Citadel?" asked Ryden.

"Something like that, just on a much larger scale," Dances with Balrogs continued, "From here we monitor the whole world, and stem out all malfunctions and misusages."

"Malfunctions and misusages?" Ryden replied as though Dances was speaking Greek.

"In lay man's terms, hackers and glitches," explained Grendel, "Like the ones at Necropolis."

"Yes, I heard they were using hacks," said Ryden, "They had to be, how could they overpower Last Hope so easily? Is there anything you guys can do about it? What if-"

The Dark Lord raised a hand to silence the warrior, "In the past, we had our Agents. But now, Necropolis has grown so strong, that even they have been overpowered."

"Agents?" Ryden stammered; he's heard that term from Smith and Dreznor, but was still unsure of what to make out of it.

"Our eyes and ears of the server," elaborated Grendel. He snapped his fingers and seven men all in federal suits, ties, and with uniform black shades materialized out of nowhere. They carried katanas attatched to their belts, and wore silver armbands with diamond patches, each patch bearing a roman numeral. "They patrol our blind spots, and strike what is out of reach to us. These are our champions, the seven of them lead seven squads of Agents to combat against the enemies of the server."

Ryden then observed an irregularity, "There are captains of squads seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve and thirteen here, but what about one to six?"

All four wise men flinched slightly, as though Ryden had said something insanely taboo. Grendel waved his hand and the seven captains disappeared. Grendel then touched a button on the arm rest of his easy chair, and a holographic image was generated in the centre of the table. It showed six men, each bearing the armbands of a captain. On closer examination, he realised that emblazoned onto them were the roman numerals one through six.

"Melchior, North Blitz; Balthasar, South Gale; Descartes, East Abyss; Casper, West Venom; Smithosian, Earth Aflame; Longinus, Sky Asunder. These are the captains of the missing squads, or rather they were, until they broke away," started the Dark Lord, breaking the uneasy silence, "They felt our efforts were insufficient in protecting Bera, and formed their own league."

"The Order of Koaxia," declared Ryden.

"Indeed," confirmed Athena.

"Wait, Smith was a captain?" the realisation dawned upon Ryden, and he nearly choked it out.

"Smithosian, captain of squad IV. He was one hell of a fighter. A pity he fell from grace," Dances lamented, "Wait, you know Smith?!"

"I heard of him somewhere, but that's about all," Ryden lied. Thankfully, Dances bought it, "What happened to them?"

"We manged to defeat them, and exiled them forever," muttered Grendel sadly, as though he'd exiled his own sons, "But the last titanic clash nearly destroyed Bera. That is why we cannot take anymore action against Necropolis. For if we do, the very fabric of the world will collapse upon itself."

"That is where you come in," Athena Pierce said, "You will attack Necropolis in our stead."

"Me? Why me? I'm not strong enough. Hell, I got creamed by a Necropolis mage! And he's not even a Wizard yet!" Ryden exclaimed, hysteric that the weight of the world was suddenly on his shoulders.

"We've given you all the answers we can. You have to answer the rest of them yourself," the Dark Lord rose from his seat, "Now rest. We rise early tomorrow."

He waved his hand, and Ryden plummetted into a deep slumber.

* * *

A/N: The next day... 

The lights in the ward flickered to life, revealing a lone warrior sitting on his bed, knees tucked close to his body. Ryden looked up as the door to his ward opened. A young cleric stepped through, looking to be slightly younger than Zeraion. Speaking of the archer, the newcomer seemed to look oddly familiar...

"Morning, did you sleep?" The cleric asked. Ryden shook his head; for all the power that the Dark Lord put into his Sleep spells, the anxious fighter hadn't slept for more than a few hours. He had spent the entire night sitting on the cot, brooding over what was to come next, until the cleric had interrupted his reverie.

"You will tonight. I guarantee it." The cleric grinned and grasped Ryden's arm in a firm handshake. "My name's Ascion Blade. I'll be your operator for today."

"Operator?" Ascion's grin grew wider.

"Old Grendel never really explained it to you, didn't he? Never mind, when we get to the training room, you'll see."

Ryden nodded as he scrutinised the cleric's face more closely. "You... you're-"

"Zeraion Phoenix's younger brother, if you haven't realised." Ascion explained, still grinning. Ryden stared as Ascion continued to grin, and finally the cleric let out a loud chuckle. "Goddamn, I've gotta tell you, I'm really excited to see what you're capable of, if what I've heard from Zer is right and all... I mean, I'm not supposed to talk about this, but, if you are..."

Ascion's grin threatened to split his face in two as it grew wider still. "It's gonna be a really exciting time!" He then pulled Ryden to his feet. "We've got a lot of work to do, and we've gotta get to it."

* * *

Ryden lay in the reclining seat, his feet securely clamped to the footrests near the base of the chair, and his head laid back onto the headrest where a strange device had been attached to the rear of his head. Ascion had said it would accelerate the learning process (of what, he did not say), but Ryden didn't trust the device to do anything more than suck his brains out. 

Ascion meanwhile had plopped himself down onto a nearby chair, where a large array of computer screens and equipment were neatly arranged on a desk. He pulled open one of the drawers and fished out a whole handful of diskettes. Ryden glanced at the cleric momentarily out of the corner of his eye.

"All right, we're supposed to go through these basic operation programs first..." Ascion muttered and discarded the first few diskettes as one would discard a piece of refuse. "That's major boring _shit_. How about we do something a little bit more fun, how about..." He finally picked out a diskette and held it up for Ryden to see. "Combat training."

Ascion slid the diskette into the computer, which was connected to the device which was in turn attached to Ryden's head, and the digital image of a warrior positioned in a certain fighting stance appeared on the screen. Ryden at first scoffed at Ascion's decision of training programs, but as he saw what the cleric had in store for him his derision turned into curiousity.

"Jujitsu?" Ryden read the name off the screen. "I'm going to learn Jujitsu?"

Ascion merely winked at him before pressing the 'Upload' button on the screen.

Immediately Ryden stiffened in his chair and bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain as the information bullied its way into his mind, forcefully imprinting the knowledge into his memory, courtesy of the device attached to the base of his skull. Suddenly, the pain disappeared as abruptly as it had began, and Ryden gasped out as he suddenly found himself having knowledge of an entirely new fighting style.

"Holy shit!" He rasped, still trying to come to terms with the incredible sensation he had just experienced.

"'Hey Mikey, I think he likes it.' How about some more?" Ascion said with a smile.

Still catching his breath, Ryden lay back in his chair and gasped out, "Hell yes." He closed his eyes as he prepared for the training ahead.

"Hell yeah..."

* * *

Dances with Balrog entered the training room with Grendel, glancing concernedly at the still body of the fighter lying on the chair. Grendel walked over to Ascion and looked over his shoulder at the screen. A multitude of fighting styles were flashing on and off the screen at a rapid pace; Ryden was learning extremely fast. Among the few Grendel saw names like 'Kenpo', 'Tae Kwon Do', 'Drunken Boxing'... 

There were so many that Grendel gave up trying to keep track of them after a few seconds.

"How is he?" He asked Ascion softly. The cleric sighed and looked at Ryden.

"Ten hours straight. He's a machine." Dances with Balrog then stepped next to Ryden as the fighter let out a long breath as he assimilated the knowledge from the last of the training programs that Ascion had for him.

He then glanced to his left and saw Dances with Balrog standing over him.

"I know Kung Fu." Ryden breathed out, amazed.

Dances simply leaned over him slightly with a knowing smile on his face.

"Show me."

* * *

"This a sparring simulation." Dances with Balrog gestured at the dojo-like structure they had been transported into. "Similar to the programmed reality of the server. It has the same basic rules, rules like gravity. What you must learn is that these rules are no different than the rules of a computer system. Some of them can be bent. Others can be broken. Understand?" 

Ryden, who stood opposite the elder warrior on the other side of the dojo, nodded, though not quite understanding what Dances meant by 'breaking the rules'. Nevertheless, Dances with Balrog took his nod as affirmation.

"Then hit me, if you can." The warrior leader said with a smirk on his face. Never one to back down from a challenge, Ryden gave his opponent a quick but formal salute, and struck a Jeet Kune Do ready stance. In contrast to Ryden's quick and sharp movements, Dances with Balrog opted for a more fluid style; he smoothly entered the Tai Chi Quan ready stance.

They both stood their groud for a moment, in a classic Mexican standoff, each waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

His patience running out, Ryden was the one who attacked first. He quickly threw a flurry of test punches at Dances with Balrog, who almost effortlessly blocked them all. Ryden attempted to sidestep around Dances' defenses, but the elder warrior was quick to evade, and Ryden found himself jabbing at empty air as Dances with Balrog slid behind him.

Ryden whirled around and struck another ready stance, his teacher doing the same. Satisfied with his newfound power, Ryden jumped on his feet for a couple of seconds, smirking and entering a different ready stance.

Dances with Balrog beckoned to him. Ryden's smirk grew wider before he leapt forward into the air while delivering three kicks in rapid succession. Again, Dances with Balrog blocked them with little difficulty, but that did not dissuade Ryden from pressing the attack. Spinning on his heel, he delivered a lightning-fast reverse roundhouse kick, only to have his mentor duck under the blow. He launched forth three more kicks in rapid succession, but Dances also blocked them easily, his arms moving faster than Ryden thought possible for a warrior.

Gathering his wits for a moment, Ryden pulled back for a split-second before darting forward and lashing out with a side kick that was meant to catch his mentor off guard in his abdomen.

Dances with Balrog's arms caught his leg instead. Holding the outstretched limb in a vice-like grip, Dances with Balrog used that grip to throw Ryden off the ground, sending him spinning through the air and coming to a hard landing on the dojo floor. The fighter endured the impact readily, and was back on his feet in an instant.

"Good!" Dances with Balrog praised. "Adaptation, improvisation. But your weakness... is not your technique."

Ryden nodded before launching himself into the offensive again, his mentor easily blocking all of his attacks, and now even countering with his own.

* * *

Ascion thundered down the stairs, headed for the mess hall. Grendel was watching over the two; they would be fine in the simulation. Right now he had to make sure nobody missed a good show. 

He finally came to the mess hall's entrance, bursting through the double doors so suddenly that everyone in the room started.

"Dances with Balrog is fighting Ryden!" He gasped out before taking off again. At the centre table, Zeraion, Roxi and Iris glanced at each other for a moment before they took off as well, not wanting to miss out on the show.

* * *

Ryden attacked with three kicks in rapid succession. Dances with Balrog met those kicks with his own and, with a speed that Ryden recognised that only hackers possessed, whirled around and caught his still-outstretched leg in a counter hold. Ryden tried to break out of the hold, but Dances' grip was too solid. The warrior leader then whirled around and delivered a reverse palm strike that struck Ryden in his midsection, sending the fighter flying backwards. Landing on his back, Ryden immediately flipped back onto his feet, pressing the attack and never letting his mentor rest. 

So far Dances with Balrog had succeeded in repelling him in every attempt to breach his defenses, but Ryden believed his teacher would wear down sooner or later. Then, he would win.

The question was if it would happen sooner, or later.

Ryden firmly decided on the latter as he threw another reverse roundhouse, only to have Dances duck beneath it with supernatural speed. He tried to follow up with a flurry of punches, but Dances caught his arm in another counter hold and hurled him away, sending him sliding across the dojo floor. Thrusting out his arms to stop his fall, Ryden looked up only to see Dances right on top of him, his mentor's kneecap about to land where his head rested.

Trained reflexes took over, and he rolled the side and flipped back onto his feet, dodging the blow that instead cracked the wooden dojo floor as though it were a piece of cardboard. Charging back at his mentor and throwing another flurry of punches, he was pushed back yet again as Dances parried his blows easily and sent him flying backwards with a vicious palm strike to his abdomen, causing him to land painfully on his stomach.

Stumbling back onto his feet, Ryden struck a standard Kenpo ready stance, watching his mentor for any attacks. Dances with Balrog blurred forward before appearing right in front of Ryden, and the fighter barely had time to react, switching over into a boxing stance. He tried to attack Dances before Dances attacked him, but before he could even move to strike, the warrior leader hit him in his side with a lightning-fast side kick. He stumbled backwards for a bit before regaining his balance, and he barely saw his mentor's fist flying at his face. He caught it in a counter hold in the nick of time before attempting to flip Dances onto the ground.

With a balance that didn't seem possible, Dances regained his balance while in mid-fall, and suddenly landed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Stunned, Ryden could not react as his mentor reversed the hold on him, flipping the fighter to the ground instead. Quickly recovering his wits as his back hit the floor, Ryden flipped over Dances' ankle sweep and dashed forward, straight into the nearest pillar.

But he didn't run into it. Instead, placing his feet firmly upon it, he _ran_ straight up the pillar for three full metres before backflipping off, intending to catch Dances with Balrog off guard from behind.

His mentor's foot caught his midsection as he landed instead. Hurtling backwards, Ryden crashed into another pillar on the opposite side of the room, ramming into it with such force that it shattered. He fell forward unceremoniously on the ground, panting and gasping for breath while attempting to avoid landing on any of his many bruises.

Dances with Balrog, largely unscathed, stood over Ryden, wiping his palms. "How did I beat you?" He asked him.

Ryden managed to get up onto one knee and glanced up at his mentor, still trying to catch his breath. "You're... you're too fast." He finally gasped.

"Do you believe that my being stronger, or faster, has anything to do with my muscles in _this_ place?" Dances with Balrog gestured at the dojo around them.

Realising his error, Ryden hung his head exhaustedly and shook it.

The elder warrior then leaned closer, looking Ryden in the eye. "You think that's air you're breathing now?"

Ryden glanced up, seeing his mentor looking at him with a mock quizzical look. Dances with Balrog, seeing the understanding in the young fighter's eyes, smiled and gave a small huff of satisfaction. He then straightened up, striding over to the other end of the dojo.

"Again!" He declared, his back facing Ryden.

* * *

Watching eagerly from the observation window on the higher floor, the three other Wise Men, Zeraion, Roxi, Iris, and Ascion had gathered to witness the two warriors spar. Dances had proved the superior thus far, but if Grendel had sensed anything different about the manner in which Ryden had been fighting lately, then he could safely say that Dances was in for a surprise when the second round started.

* * *

Both combatants stood in a Mexican Standoff again, Ryden in a classic Kenpo stance while Dances stood in another Tai Chi stance. This time, it was the latter who moved first to attack, his limbs blurring as he launched forth blows at a rapid-fire pace. 

Astonishingly, Ryden began to move with the same unnatural speed as his mentor. His own limbs moving so quickly that they too blurred, he managed to block almost all of his mentor's attacks.

Up in the observation room, Ascion watched the fight with growing fascination.

"Holy Balrogs, he's fast!" He muttered to himself as he watched Ryden's movements grow even rapid. "Ta-take at these kinetics, they're way above normal!" He frantically gestured at the screens next to the viewing window, which displayed the velocities at which the two warrior's bodies were moving, his excitement so great that he stammered when he spoke. Dances' speed was already off the charts, but Ryden's readings were steadily climbing upward, reaching a level equal to that of his mentor's. Slightly irritated at his younger brother's outburst, Zeraion swatted Ascion's hand away from the screen and continued to watch the match.

Ryden finally managed to attempt a counter-attack, but although it managed to hit Dances, his mentor hardly seemed fazed by the strikes. In return, the elder warrior assaulted Ryden with several hard chops to the stomach, sending the younger fighter reeling backwards. Ryden barely managed to halt his momentum backward, but as he glanced up he saw Dances' fist stop millimetres from his face.

Startled, he quickly backpedalled two steps before striking another ready stance, his left fist raised in front of him and ready to block any incoming attacks while he cocked his right fist behind him in preparation for a counterattack.

But Dances did not press the attack. "What are you waiting for?" He asked the fighter. "You're faster than this." He then straightened and thrust out his left arm towards Ryden with his palm facing upward.

"Don't _think _you are. _Know_ you are." Dances stated. Then, he beckoned for Ryden to attack.

Ryden nodded before striking another ready stance, this time akin to that of his mentor's Tai Chi Quan. Dances gave him a brief look of approval before he thrust forward with his fists. With the same supernatural swiftness that earlier only his mentor possessed, Ryden now effortlessly blocked all of his mentor's attacks, but as he attempted to counter he realised that he had one slight problem; he was so busy blocking that no time at all was left for striking back. He fruitlessly attempted to parry some of Dances' blows to create openings, but his mentor simply caught his fists in an arm lock and shouted, "Come on, stop trying to hit me, and _hit me_!"

With unnatural strength, Ryden broke out of the arm lock with nothing but brute force, and he thrust out both arms in a double palm strike. The blows finally managed to hit, sending Dances stumbling back by two steps. Pressing the attack, Ryden gave his mentor no respite as he continued to launch forth blows at a machine-gun pace. Dances blocked what he could, but eventually he found himself pinned against the opposite pillar, with Ryden's fist stopped inches from shattering his jaw.

Up in the observation room, Ascion muttered to himself, "I don't believe it."

"I know what you're trying to do." Ryden murmured as he drew his fist back and stepped away from his mentor.

Dances merely gave Ryden a knowledgeable smile. "I'm trying to free your mind, Ryden. But I can only show you the door. You're the one who has to walk through it." Finally, he looked up to the ceiling, where the group watched them, and he grinned.

"Dark Lord, initiate the jump simulation." He spoke to them. The elder thief nodded, and pressed a few buttons on the screen before exiting the observation room.

All of a sudden Ryden's surroundings changed, switching from the dojo's interior to that of the top of a huge skyscraper. All around him the metropolis of Kerning City was splayed out, and a large distance away from the skyscraper he was standing on, was another skyscraper of equal height.

He glanced to his side and noticed that Dances with Balrog was gone, and in his place stood the Dark Lord.

"You have to let it all go, Ryden," The Dark Lord stated. "Fear, doubt, and disbelief. _Free your mind._" That was all the ninja lord said before he took several running steps towards the edge of the skyscraper. Then, taking off in a humongous leap that carried him all the way to the rooftop of the opposite skyscraper, he landed gracefully with a _thud_ that cracked the concrete around the floor upon which he had landed.

Astounded by the Dark Lord's power, Ryden could only utter a small, awed, "Whoa."

With slight trepidation, he peered over the edge of the skyscraper's rooftop, down to the street several dozen stories below. If he failed to make the jump, it seemed that he had a very long way to drop.

"Okey-dokey." He muttered to himself, glanced up at where the Dark Lord had landed, and back down at the street below. "Free my mind."

* * *

"What if he makes it?" Ascion muttered anxiously as he watched Ryden back up several steps, obviously preparing for the leap. 

"Not even an assassin with a maxed-out Haste can make that jump." Zeraion commented.

"I know, I know." Ascion replied. "But... what if he does?"

"He won't." Grendel said convincedly.

Off to the side, Roxi watched the scene intently and murmured to herself, "Come on..."

* * *

"No problem, free my mind. Free my mind. Free my mind, no problem, right!" Ryden finally finished chanting to himself as he rubbed his palms together before he took off running. Just as he reached the roof edge he took the leap of faith, fear lending his feet wings... but not jet engines, unfortunately. 

With a surprised cry, the fighter plummeted to the ground several hundred metres below, slamming into the ground with a tremendous crash and leaving behind a sizeable crater. Grunting in pain, Ryden barely managed to lift up his right hand and give the Dark Lord the finger before he passed out.

* * *

Ascion winced as he watched Ryden crash into the ground. "Wh-what does that mean?" 

"It doesn't mean anything, Ascion." Zeraion replied off-handedly. "That jump was impossible; don't be surprised Ryden couldn't handle it."

"Everybody falls the first time. Right, Athena?" Grendel remarked. Athena merely nodded in agreement.

* * *

A/N: Three months after that... 

Ryden had completed his basic training course two days ago, which included completing the 'impossible' jump, fending off all of the Four Wise Men simultaneously in a sparring session, and undergoing weapon specialisation training under each of the Four Wise Men individually. With the lessons learnt from Dances with Balrog, Athena Pierce and the Dark Lord, he was stronger than any other warrior, sharper than any hunter or crossbowman, and faster than any assassin or bandit. He could beat any warrior who outleveled him by the tens in a fencing match, had learnt how to shoot a bow and crossbow as accurately as any archer, and also now knew how to throw shurikens from claws with the swiftness of an assassin. Even from Grendel he had learnt how to cast rudimentary spells; he could summon either small plumes of flame, shards of ice, or even small bolts of lightning at his fingertips, though it took considerable concentration.

With all the training he had been put through he had also advanced considerably; within a short span of three months he had advanced from a wet-behind-the-ears level 30 Fighter to a not-as-wet-behind-the-ears level 35... well, technically he was no longer a regular player and hence could no longer be called a Fighter. The Four Wise Men however, had deemed him fit to be classified under the 'Agents'.

After he completed his training course he was put through a comprehensive trial that tested both his physical and mental prowess. Naturally, he triumphed over the obstacles easily and emerged the victor, receiving the blessing of each of the Four Wise Men.

The first of the gifts from Dances with Balrog was what the warrior leader called 'Draconic Strength'. According to him, Draconic Strength increased Ryden's already supernatural strength to ungodly levels, and allowed him to wield two-handed weapons with just one hand. It also unlocked a skill called Dragon Strike, a devastating lunge that allowed him to deal an insane amount of damage to an opponent while using up an equally insane amount of mana.

Likewise, the first blessing from Athena Pierce was what the elder bowlady termed as 'Draconic Senses'. Draconic Senses essentially allowed Ryden to see in the dark with Draconic Vision and detect the heat emitted by living organisms, while Draconic Smell allowed him to track the scent of his quarry with unerring precision.

From the Dark Lord he received what the ninja lord called 'Draconic Speed'. It allowed him to move at incredibly high speeds while actively tapping into it, and also allowed him to build up power for incredible long-distance leaps.

From Grendel the fighter had received the gift of what the elder archmage called 'Regeneration'. At first Ryden didn't understand what he meant by that, but he instantly got the point when Grendel simply impaled him with a magical sword, only to have the wound disappear from his body after a few seconds.

After all that Ryden thought he was ready to take on Necropolis, but the Four Wise Men thought otherwise. Saying that having his own skills was not enough, and that he needed his own weapons, they dumped a box full of materials on his tool bench. They only gave him instructions to use the materials to assemble a bow, a crossbow, and a claw before leaving.

Sighing, he opened the box and dumped the materials messily onto his work bench. Grabbing up the nearest handful of tools, he started working.

* * *

For three days he toiled in his room, assembling his own personal, trademark weapons, emerging only for meals and immediately returning to continue assembling them. When he was finally finished he stumbled out of his room, exhausted but exuberant. He had done it! 

As he presented his weapons to the Four Wise Men, they were more than sufficiently impressed. Ryden had made extremely good use of the materials, especially for the claw. Or should I say, _claws._

Ryden had managed to assemble, not one, but _two_ claws from the materials given, one of them coloured pure black while the other possessed a shiny, silvery sheen. As befitting their appearances, an inscription of the name 'Ebony' was carved onto the base of the the black claw, while the name 'Ivory' was inscribed onto base of the silver claw.

But Ebony and Ivory weren't normal claws. Regular claws normally released stars by having the user either clench his fist or twitch his trigger finger, but it still needed the user to swing his arm to build up the deadly force needed. Ebony and Ivory didn't need any of that.

Small gunpowder cartridges stored inside the claw ignited whenever Ryden twitched his trigger finger, causing a miniature explosion that propelled the star, in this case a Steely, forward at lethal speeds without even requiring the user to move his arms. As the fighter put it, usage of the claws was simple; just point and shoot.

As for the bow and crossbow, he had also come up with ingenius designs for them. As he displayed the bow for them to see, it seemed like just any ordinary bow, but he proved them wrong as he strung in a regular arrow and fired it off at a nearby wall, where it struck the stone barrier with an immense explosion and left behind a hole the size of a Drake. Apparently, the bow had been imbued with a considerable amount of magic, allowing it to fire off arrow bombs without requiring mana. Ryden had named it the 'Kalina Ann'.

For the crossbow, it was perhaps the most versatile. Showing two alternate modes of fire, Ryden demonstrated the two uses of the crossbow he had named Spiral. Inserting a magazine into the lower part of the crossbow, he explained that the magazine was loaded with pre-fragmented bronze crossbow bolts. Aiming the crossbow one-handed at a nearby Puppet, he pulled the trigger.

A small explosion occurred at the crossbow's barrel, coupled with a tremendous bang. Spiral kicked back almost ninety degrees from the sheer force of the recoil, but the Puppet was instantly shredded in a shower of shrapnel. According to the fighter, the bronze bolts were designed to explode into an expanding cone of lethal fragments once it was fired, mimicking the spread effect of Omega Sector's shotgun weapons. The second fire mode was more traditional, albeit a bit unusual. Ryden removed the magazine and manually inserted another crossbow bolt, the arrowhead made of mythril. As explained by the warrior, the bolts were high-velocity and piercing in nature. He aligned three Puppets in a random fashion before drawing a bead on the first one. Firing off the bolt, it easily pierced right through the first puppet, but that wasn't the end of it.

As it hit a nearby wall, the bolt _ricocheted_, returning and piercing through the second puppet before it ricocheted again and ran through the last dummy.

Now thoroughly amazed at Ryden's ingenuity, the Four Wise Men reached the same conclusion simultaneously; Ryden was ready to take on his father's place. They dismissed the fighter to his quarters, saying that he would need his full strength for the ceremony tomorrow.

A new legend was about to be born.

* * *

A/N: The next day...

Ryden was rudely awoken from his slumber by an Agent, a Basic, judging from his blue armband. The Agent merely pointed at him and said, "You, wake now and follow."

Slightly bewildered, Ryden had no choice but to comply, even if it meant wearing his less formal sleeping attire out of his quarters. Sure, he was itching to try out his new abilities, but with Smith's awesome display of power some time back, he'd rather not try it on this guy.

The Agent led him to a large chamber with an ivory domed ceiling. There, the Four Wise Men were waiting. They said nothing, but the Dark Lord motioned for Ryden to stand in the middle of the chamber, marked with a giant circle. As soon as Ryden stood onto the marking, the scenery began to change. Everything went dark, and Ryden felt his head spinning. He paused to straighten out his thoughts and assess the situation. Somehow, in this dimension of darkness, he could not speak, and try as he might, he never seemed to move from the spot he was standing on.

Then, the darkness started sparkling. Hundreds upon hundreds of glistening specks brightened up the place. On first glance, he thought they might be stars, but upon closer investigation, he realised they were forming the shapes of sheathed katanas. It took a while for all of them to finally materialize completely, but when they did, the sight was magnificent to behold. Rows and rows of katanas floating in the blackness, ever watching, ever gazing.

"Now, one of these Deathbringers will choose," Grendel's voice boomed, seemingly out of nowhere, "close your eyes and meditate your thoughts, Son of Dracon."

Ryden complied, still feeling rather edgy. The mere word 'Deathbringer' brought to mind the almighty Agents. Wielding these blades, they cut down the enemies of the server mercilessly. Now he was being given one.

Then, he felt a tingling sensation, followed by a burst of emotion, the type that was somewhat akin to meeting a long-lost best friend. From the distance, one Deathbringer floated over, and hovered in front of Ryden. Tensing for a while, Ryden hesitated, before calming himself down and grabbing the blade. There was a bring flash, followed by the fading of the dark dimension, back to the ivory dome.

The Four Wise Men were grinning and beaming with pride. Then, Dances with Balrogs broke into a hearty laughter and thunderous round of applause, "Well done sonny, well done."

"Your training is now complete, Son of Dracon," Athena said, "This Deathbringer has chosen you. In due time you will learn its true powers. Until then, build rapport with it, and it will serve you well."

"Rapport? Chosen?" Ryden blurted out. It was like someone gave him a dog or something, "Isn't there some kind of diskette or instruction manual I can use like I've been doing these past months?"

"The Deathbringer is a highly randomized value, no two are the same. As such there is no way to make an instruction manual per-se," said the Dark Lord.

"Then how will I learn to use it?" Ryden queried again, growing further confused.

"Use the only other highly randomized value in this world," Grendel paused, gradually building up tension, "Your heart."

"That's all from us Ryden," Athena winked and snapped her fingers. A waning portal opened behind Ryden and started to swallow him.

"Go get em' tiger."

* * *

A/N: Finally, I've reached the part I've been wanting to type for so long! Anyway, Ryden still hasn't gained his full powers yet, many more mind-blowing abilities to come in the later chapters. There are even quite a few weapons and powers that we intend to grant him in the next chapter, so stay tuned for the next update, coming in one or two weeks time!

This is the Chief, signing off.


	8. Alastor

Disclaimer: We don't own a thing. So leave us alone.

* * *

A/N: New skills, weapons and characters abound in this chapter, and Ryden gets to take his powers for a test run. Read on and you'll see how it goes. 

* * *

Chapter 10: Alastor

Ryden wasn't one of the best jumpers in Bera. As such, he wasn't exactly the most skilled of landers either. The waning portal which had sucked him in and thrown him right out into the middle of nowhere. His head still hurt from digesting all the information, and coming to terms with the fact that the entire world was on his shoulders now, and his butt still hurt from the terrible landing.

He looked around him. He was still clutching his new Deathbringer, and scattered all around him were his personal belongings, neatly packed up in various carriers and waiting to get organized before he set off. Bending over, he slowly gathered him scattered articles and loaded them into a rug sack which lay nearby. As he was finished the task, a presence caused him to wheel on his heel.

"Who the…" he muttered to himself, and then he recognized the figure watching him from the distance, "Smith!"

"Oh, it's just you," Smith replied rather disinterestedly, before turning to leave.

"Wait! Why are you here?" asked Ryden. He had meant to seek Smith out and question him about Necropolis, but lo and behold, Smith found him instead.

"A portal appeared. Not an ordinary one, rather one which spawns something less ordinary than usual. It could be the forceful spawning of a rare game which does not usually appear in the area, the mass generation of items of superior quality or quantity, or a big bombastic glitch," Smith elaborated, still with that disinterested look on his face.

"And which one is it?" Ryden queried again, wanting to test Smith's knowledge, and figure out what exactly he'd become.

"It's not the first, neither is it the second," Smith calmly replied.

"So I'm just another glitch?!" Ryden nearly choked.

"Increased health regeneration, enhanced physical performance, permanent increases in stats; yes, Son of Dracon, you are a glitch. But not one the GMs will clear up very soon. You see, you will help them fight and defeat Necropolis. Either that or you'll die in the process and they'll just find another champion," Smith smirked, leaving a stinging mark of sarcasm.

"And how shall I go about it?" Ryden finally got what he wanted to say all along off his chest, "I was hoping to ask you for advice."

"Ah, a major mistake by rookies aplenty. You cannot compare yourself to me. I would waltz in, burn everything that moves, and waltz out like it was easier than making breakfast. You, on the other hand, would get past merely the guards with incredible difficulty. There's a great difference in our powers, and that's something that you must consider," Smith chided the fighter.

"So I should believe and myself and trust in my inner voice?" Ryden tried again.

"Oh god, this is gonna be tough…" Smith muttered as he slapped his forehead in disbelief, "An even worse suggestion lad, much worse than the first one. Your judgment will be marred and impaired by you own emotions, you own ideals, your own egos. If you go in like that, I fear you won't even make it past the sentries. Better to seek an opinion which doesn't involve you."

"Then who should I ask? You're the greatest hacker that walks Bera currently and you refuse to help me, instead demoralizing me by saying that I shouldn't even trust myself? Who should I ask then?" Ryden nearly yelled out, frustrated.

"The truth hurts yes, but there is someone who you can ask. You trust him with your life, and you trust your enemies' lives unto him. He accompanies you faithfully, and you both know each other inside out. Who is he? I'll leave you with that thought," with that, Smith spun around and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding woods. Ryden wanted more information about this person, but drawing on past experiences, he knew that trying to keep up with Smith would be impossible at best and suicidal at worst.

_He accompanies me daily…I trust him with my life, and trust my enemies' lives unto him…Could it be mom? No that's not right; mom hasn't killed anyone for me…_

Ryden was shaken out of his thoughts by the sounds of a battle nearby. Or rather, the sounds of someone dying. He rounded the corner of the dense forest, and was greeted by the gruesome sight of a Paladin standing amongst disemboweled and decapitated victims. Only he was not truly a Paladin. They certainly shared the same appearance, and the same power, but there was something evil about this warrior. Ryden did a quick scan of the man, and it didn't take him long to realize the emblem of Necropolis on the Paladin's armor. No further questions would need to be asked. It was time for battle.

As though the Paladin heard Ryden's thoughts, he turned to face the warrior and bowed low, "Greetings, Son of Dracon. I am Bale, Senior Council member of Necropolis and First Daemon Prince of the guild."

"I believe there's no need for me to introduce myself. You've obviously done your homework," Ryden sarcastically replied, drawing his Deathbringer and taking up a recently-learned stance.

"Everyone knows about the chosen champion of the Four Wise Men of Bera to lead the forces of Righteousness against the hordes of Necropolis, yes?" Bale taunted, "I suppose we need not worry too much, the champion is merely a pup!"

With that, Bael lunged forth with his gigantic greatsword. Despite the weapon's weight, Bale wielded it as though it was feather-light, producing flamboyant spins, brutal slashes, and precision parries. Ryden was taken aback by his opponents speed at first, but gradually he began to increase his tempo, and was defending as much as he was attacking. After several rounds, all the grass in the clearing had been trampled flat by the two combatants. Both had landed several blows onto the other, but neither gaining any ground in particular. With a mighty clash of steel, both warriors were thrown back by their own force rebounding onto them.

"So much for a pup eh?" Ryden returned the taunt.

"Fool! Do you think I actually was fighting seriously?" Muttering several incantations, Bale's sword turned a shadowy black, and its movements turned from the rigid sways of a straight blade, to the wavy patterns of a whip.

Spinning it several times, Bale charged with a seemingly simple blow to Ryden's shoulder. Ryden moved his Deathbringer up to parry, as he had done so many times before. However, this time, the outcome was much different. Instead of being held back by Ryden's Deathbringer, Bale's greatsword passed right through and bit deeply into Ryden's shoulder.

Biting back a scream of pain, Ryden staggered a few steps back. Unrelenting, Bale continued his onslaught. Ryden did his very best to defend himself, but up against an enemy who's blade could parry his own Deathbringer, yet totally bypass his defenses, he was totally helpless.

Triumphant, Bale took several steps back, beaming at his self-stylized scene of anarchy. The champion of the GMs, now lay battered in front of him, weary and wounded. He struggled to his feet, and failed several times to raise his sword before finally succeeding.

Ryden felt beaten. He just felt like giving up and letting Bale kill him, but deep down he knew that if he could not defeat Bale, a mere lieutenant of Necropolis, the leader would be a distant dream. Just then, a voice from deep within his heart spoke out.

_You are not his match, yet you still choose to fight him. Why?_

_**The fate of the world rests with me. If I don't do this, no one will.**_

_Even if it spells you doom?_

_**I'd rather let myself die than allow the rest of the world to perish.**_

_Very well then…_

The scenery of the wood around Ryden vanished, replacing itself with some sort of barren desert wasteland. He surveyed around, yet all he could see was dry, unforgiving sand dunes. Then, a humongous sandstorm kicked up. Shielding his face from potential injury, Ryden turned away.

"Ryden, Son of Dracon. Face me," a great booming voice echoed from deep within the sandstorm.

Against all his instincts, Ryden lowered his arm, and turned to face the source of the voice. To his surprise, he saw a shadowy man with long, dark hair, a black cloak and an eye patch over his left eye.

"Son of Dracon, will I ask you again. The path you have chosen is difficult and fraught with danger. Will you still proceed?" the man asked.

"I said before and I'll say it again! I'd rather die with honor than live dishonorably!" Ryden declared.

"Very well, you have proven yourself worthy, and I shall lend you my aid. Whenever you need my help, call my name. Hark! I am Alastor! The weak shall give their hearts and swear eternal loyalty to me!"

The sandstorm gradually faded, and Ryden returned to the clearing. It was as if time has stopped, because Bale was still taunting him and hadn't come any much closer to delivering the _coup de grace_. Either that, or Bale was a total moron. Somehow, he preferred the second explanation.

Clutching his Deathbringer with both hands, he called out, "Come out, Alastor!"

He felt a sudden surge of power emitting from the Deathbringer. It glowed with intense light, and slowly changed its appearance. From the shape of a regular katana, it morphed to that of a two-handed greatsword with a hilt in the shape of a dragon's head. Both parties were taken aback at the sudden turn of events. They both gazed at the blade for awhile, spellbound.

Then, Ryden broke the deadlock. Charging forth, Ryden summoned his valor and raised his blade high. Suddenly, he hear Alastor's voice again.

_Listen, Son of Dracon. You have unleashed my first release, with it comes a spike in all combat abilities. Additionally, I shall give unto you an attack which can only be unleashed when I am in this form. There is a difference in knowing and not knowing the name of this attack. It is…_

"Distortion Drive!" Ryden called out. Swinging his sword downwards to face Bale, it started crackling with purple bolts of magical energy, coupled with blue arcs of lightning. The energy grew in intensity, before forming a gigantic beam and blasting forth towards the Daemon Prince.

What resulted was a cataclysmic explosion which uprooted several trees nearby, left a gigantic crater, and kicked up a huge dust screen. Panting, Ryden lowered Alastor, and surveyed the damage. However, to his horror, Bale was still standing there, seemingly unscathed.

"Well, well, I long hear so such a powerful weapon as a Deathbringer, but I never really saw it in action. I'll give it to you. Until now, no one has been able to even scratch this Demonic Gate-Shield of mine, but your attack totally shattered it," A beam of sunlight burst through the canopy of clouds to reveal a semi-transparent, now totally destroyed block which resembled a gate, "Not that it matters, the Demon Gate is a mere fraction of my total strength."

Bale lifted an outstretched arm, and started charging a massive glob of dark energy into his palm. With a cry, he hurled it at Ryden, who managed to dodge it just in time. To his disbelief, whatever the black orb touched seemingly just vanished. Ryden spent one second too long on thinking about Bale's previous attack, and by the time he regained full concentration, Bale was already too close.

Just as Bale was about to slam his blade into Ryden's cranium, a swirl of bluish-red flames ascended, spiraling to the sky. Bale gasped in shock, and leapt back…just as a huge pillar of fire slammed into the ground. Bale desperately tried to pinpoint the location of his assailant. Glancing around frantically, he lost precious time, which his attacker gladly reciprocated in kind. The same overwhelming flame attack slammed home onto the Daemon Prince. Unable to dodge in time, Bale had no choice but to re-summon his Demon gate to block the attack.

Breathless, he muttered, "Smithosian."

"Good afternoon," a voice came from behind. It was Smith, clad in his usual garb of black with a muffler covering his upper torso.

"I do not understand. One of the greatest hackers who has ever lived has become a lapdog for the GMs?" Bale hurled a stinging insult.

"Lapdog? Me? You must have mistaken me for this lad over here," Smith pointed at Ryden.

"Then why do you oppose us? Join our ranks, and together, we shall create a new world order for Bera!" Bale thrust a pumped fist into the air, impressed at his own ideology.

"Bera can go fuck itself for all I care. It does me no profit," Smith replied, "Besides, I'm here to clean up those who downloaded the hacks Descartes accidentally released onto a public forum."

"Why would you? Let us inherit your legacy! Look what we have made of it!" Bale was now confused.

"Those were only basic level hacks, you ain't seen nothing yet. Besides, Longinus decided that having such hacks would ultimately spell doom for Bera, so we decided who would come back to kill you all over a game of blackjack. Melchior and Casper faked shuffled double-aces so I ended up losing and being sent back. For your so-called godly jobs, if you had been patient enough, the GMs would have released them in version 11.4 and the whole world would have a few months to use their overpowered skills before they got balanced-out. Alas, now that you've brought them out prematurely, they're already in the crosshairs of the nerf gun. Congrats moron, it's pioneers like you the world could use less of," Smith then turned to Ryden, "I see you've unleashed your Deathbringer's first release. Congratulations."

"That means I am on par with the Elites of the Agents, and that means I have to defeat villains like him to bring about world peace. Stand aside, I will finish him off," Ryden declared as he struggled to regain his fighting stance.

Smith shook his head in utter disbelief, "Every young Agent starts off like that, so full of hype, so energetic. Until you get your first ass-kicking then you realize you aren't a god."

"If I cannot defeat this Daemon Prince, how can I face the leader of Necropolis? I must fight more! I must get stronger!" Ryden shouted.

"Then work on getting to my level first. Observe…" Smith started fiddling with the buckle of his muffler, "The difference in strength between an Elite and an Esparda!" Buckle unclasped; Smith flung his muffler off to reveal his usual glittering rib-cage cuirass, his polished bracers and pauldrons, and something Ryden had missed the last time they met: a silver armband with a diamond patch emblazoned with the Roman numeral 'IV'.

Bael's eyes grew wide, "You're an Esparda! Ha! This will be fun. Why not you unleash your Deathbringer like the pup just did?"

"Normally, I don't even bother to use him for unworthy adversaries such as you," Smith started, drawing his own Deathbringer from its sheath, "But your Demon Gate-Shield was highly commendable. Very creative. I guess I'll make an exception."

He stretched out the glistening blade, "Here's my Deathbringer: Adramelech the Wroth!"

The glow started out less brightly than Ryden's own Alastor, but it slowly grew in strength and intensity. Ryden felt the same surge of power as when he unleashed Alastor, except that if Adramelech's wave of energy was a torrent, Alastor's would be a mere trickle.

When the glow died down, the shape of Smith's Deathbringer totally changed. Instead of a katana, Smith now held a sword totally made of fire. It burned at so great a temperature that dried grass nearby was already going up in flames.

"Impressive, very impressive-" Bale wanted to start a taunt, but was quickly silence when Smith hurled a gigantic fireball at him.

With a shout, three Demon gates were quickly erected in front of the Daemon Prince. Not that it mattered anyway. The single fireball easily smashed the gates into gravel, and carried on towards their caster. Panicked, Bale raised his greatsword.

Thankfully for Bale, the gates, despite being smashed, had taken the full brunt of the attack and he was able to deflect the fireball without significant damage to his person. As he lowered his arms from their defensive positions, he saw Smith charging towards him.

Ryden knew Smith was quick. He'd seen him at work before against the other Necropolis members. Observing the two major slash wounds on Bale, he knew that Smith had struck the Daemon Prince twice, but even straining his eyes he was only able to see Smith's second stroke following through.

It seemed Adramelech didn't just look like it was made of flames. It truly was burning. Bale's visage stood still for awhile, before crumbling to a ghost of ash and spreading in the wind. Smith then nodded, and Adramelech returned to its katana form to be sheathed.

Ryden just stared spellbound at the Esparda's awesome display of power. Suddenly, all thoughts of him being the strongest, and Bera's only hope were banished. He suddenly felt small and weak in front of this man.

"That's a fine Deathbringer you have there, Son of Dracon. Perhaps-" Smith was cut off by someone shouting in the distance.

"Ryden!" a familiar voice called in from the distance.

"Roxi!" Ryden shouted back in reply, recognizing the voice.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're all right! When I heard that you'd already left the care of the GMs I-" the wizard got distracted by the Alastor, "Hey, sexy sword!"

"Oh this guy? Yeah, I suppose he's alright-" As if by magic, Alastor surged right out of Ryden's grasp and impaled the warrior to the ground, in front of a horrified Roxi.

"Ugh," Ryden moaned as he tried to force his way out of the sword, clambering up the blade and pulling himself out of its prostrate position. Thank goodness for Grendel's enhanced regeneration. But that would surely leave a mark…

Unrelenting, Alastor flew right out of the ground and impaled Ryden again.

"I think you should apologize. A Deathbringer is a spirit weapon. It has a mind of its own," suggested Smith.

"Alright, I'm sorry, ok! You're really sexy!" Satisfied, Alastor popped out of Ryden's torso and clattered onto the ground.

Getting back onto the topic, Ryden asked, "So Smith, what must I do to be able to reach your level?"

"Don't even bother," said Smith, "There are certain things that can be achieved, and there are certain things which cannot. Remember, you were created as an ordinary player. You even holding a Deathbringer signals the fact that you are a gigantic bug, one not meant to be in the system. I, on the other hand, was created as an Agent. The limitations on my powers are far lesser than those on yours. As such the heights I can scale will be, unfortunately, impossible for you."

"Then what of the other Espardas?" Ryden asked again.

"Those in the Order of Koaxia, they are my equals. Those currently in service of the GMs, are mere robots. They lack the creativity of a human player. They will never be able to defeat me, or you, for that matter," Smith elaborated.

"Can you at least tell me what to do next?" Ryden pleaded.

"Why not ask your mother? A mother's good council is like chicken soup for the weary soul," Smith said, before turning to leave.

* * *

**A/N: Somewhere in Omega Sector**

Four shadowy figures appeared from dark portals on four sides of a raised pentagonal platform.

"You have summoned us citing it was urgent, Chaos Sorcerer, what could it be?" asked one of them.

"Your pardon, master," Sindri laid his wand down and bowed, "Bale, the Daemon Prince is dead."

"So I heard," said another. A Headhunter, he shifted his bow from hand to hand nervously, "He was slain by Smithosian, Earth Aflame."

"Koaxia is back?" barked the most imposing of figures, the Guild Master.

"Not only that. I heard they are being aided by the champion of the Four Wise Men," the fourth man, a Voidwalker said.

"This is most untimely for our guild. We are on the verge of a new plan and cannot be disturbed. But first things first, we need someone to fill Bale's place on the council," said the Guild Master.

The Voidwalker nodded, and another dark portal appeared behind him. Another Voidwalker stepped out. "This is Dreznor, my right hand. He is a peerless warrior and a competent leader. I believe he shall be adequate for the job."

"We shall see," the Guild Master muttered, "Your task now is to kill the champion. Ignore Koaxia for the time being. To confront them would be swift and sure suicide. Succeed, and the place on the council is yours. Fail, and face my wrath." With that, the Guild Master faded away into his own dark portal.

"For now, you will have the clout of a council member, but not the title. Finish the job, and your promotion shall be complete," said the Chaos Sorcerer, before he and the Headhunter entered their own portals.

"Good luck Dreznor. Bring back victory," said the Voidwalker, before he too left the platform via dark portal.

"Thanks," Muttered Dreznor, as he stared hard into a photograph of the Priestess Ceil. He threw back his head and the entire of Omega Sector echoed with his cynical laugh.

* * *

A/N: I'd wanted to make this chapter longer, but unfortunately I've suddenly contracted a severe case of writer's block. You'll have to be satisfied with this for the moment. The next chapter should be coming out soon, however.


	9. The Dead Six

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

* * *

A/N: Whoops, I just realized that the chapter numbers for the last two chapters were wrong. They're supposed to be chapters 7 and 8, not chapters 9 and 10. THIS is the real Chapter 9.

* * *

Chapter 9: The Dead Six

Ceil softly stroked the sword that lay on her lap, caressing it almost lovingly. The sword itself was unremarkable in appearance, looking just like an ordinary claymore. Its hilt was the color of bone, and the once-gleaming blade of steel had faded into a dull grey – the telltale signs of disuse and lack of maintenance. And yet, despite these flaws, Ceil thought the sword was perfect.

Just as her late husband was.

Sighing, she set the sword onto the bed beside her, and she tenderly touched the amulet that hung around her neck. She only had half of the amulet now; the other half had been passed on to Merth in hopes that he would keep it safe and hidden. But ever since the assassin had disappeared in the raid on Last Hope's HQ, the priestess had feared the worst.

The amulet was simple yet beautiful in appearance; it had a simple silver border while a large, glittering, multi-faceted ruby was embedded in the center. Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the amulet and set it beside the sword. Together, those two items were all that she had left to remember her husband by.

A few hours ago she had received a visit from a mysterious, black-clad figure wearing a black muffler and dark sunglasses. He had appeared at her doorway, giving a curt greeting and saying, "It might be a good time to give your son the keepsakes."

That was all the stranger said before he left her house, which was situated in Henesys, leaving her to ponder over how he had come to know about the stranger had come to know about the items that Dracon had left behind for her before he died. Not that it really mattered though; the man had the air of an Agent about him, so Ceil supposed that he had been sent by the Four Wise Men to tell her that.

She was about to pick up the sword and the amulet and place them inside the safe in her bedroom when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." She called out, and decided to leave the keepsakes where they were. For all she knew, it could very well be her son at the door.

Surely enough, the knob turned, and Ryden stepped in.

"Mom." Ryden greeted her with a smile. Ceil returned the smile and gave her son a motherly hug.

"Ryden, it's great to see you again. What brings you here?" She asked.

"I was told by... the Wise Men to come here after I finished my training. They said I should seek your advice on how I can strengthen myself to defeat Necropolis." Ryden told her, deciding to hide the fact that he had come here because of what Smith told him.

Ceil was slightly puzzled over the coincidence, but she brushed it aside. "All the better, son. I have something for you." Beckoning for him to follow, she returned to the bedroom, where the sword and the amulet still lay on the bed. She picked up the sword and held it out to Ryden first. Her son accepted the blade, eyeing it with a look of puzzlement.

"This sword once belonged to your father. He wielded it against the evil of the Underworld during the war, and it is the one of the only two momentos we have left of him." She explained with a tear pooling in the corner of her eye, obviously revisiting painful memories.

Ryden's eyes widened in understanding, and he gazed down at the sword that he held in front of him. "So... this was dad's sword?"

Ceil nodded. "He christened the blade the 'Force Edge', and it went by that name until he had bonded his soul with that of the sword's to such a degree that the he and the Force Edge became one, spiritually speaking. That was part of the reason why he was so legendary; he was the only person in all of Bera to have a weapon that bore his own name."

"Bore his own name? You mean that this sword was named after dad?" Ryden asked, confused.

"In a way... yes. The sword as you see it now is called Force Edge, but when its true form is unsealed..." She stopped explaining mid-way and picked up the amulet, handing it to Ryden as well. "You'll need the other half of this amulet to unseal it. I had handed the other half to Merth in hopes that he would keep it safe, but now that he has disappeared in the raid on Last Hope, I fear the worst."

Ryden stared at the amulet and the sword his mother had given him. "So... this sword belongs to dad, and this amulet belongs to you?"

"Half the amulet." Ceil corrected him, but she nodded in confirmation nonetheless.

"And together, they're supposed to unlock the Force Edge's true form?" The priestess nodded again.

"Oh yes, and there was also another weapon that your father used. Rather unconventional in a sense, but it served its deadly purpose against his enemies nevertheless. He found it hidden in The Grave of Mushmom, and after his death it was returned to its rightful place, where it has remained ever since. If you ever feel that your current weapons aren't enough, you can always give the grave a visit and see what you find over there." She told him.

"Thanks for the info mom, but I don't think Alastor's going to be outdated anytime soon." Ryden replied with a grin. Alastor, in katana form, thrummed lightly with pleasure at the compliment.

Ceil kept the smile on her face anyway. "Well, it's entirely up to you, Ryden. Although if you do ever find yourself in need of greater strength, you know where to find it."

Ryden nodded, taking the sword and clasping the amulet around his neck. He got up to leave, his visit finished. Ceil walked him out to the door, but as she was about to open it somebody on the other end started rapping on it rapidly.

"Who the-" Ceil muttered to herself as she yanked open the door. An Agent with a blue armband around his arm stood outside, and Ryden recognized him to be the Agent who had woken him to meet with the Four Wise Men at the end of his training. Either that, or every damned Agent looked the same.

The Agent ignored Ceil utterly as he focused completely on Ryden. "You. The GMs wish to meet with you. Meet them at the Sleepywood VIP sauna no later than 1800 Hours." With that, the Agent departed.

The two stood in silence for a moment.

"What was _that_ all about?" Ceil finally asked, bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

"I don't know... Agents have a way of startling you by popping out of nowhere." Ryden pulled out his PDA and nearly did a double take when he looked at the time.

"Holy- It's 5.45 pm! That Agent's insane! Sorry mom, but I've really gotta go. Wouldn't want to keep the Wise Men waiting." Ryden quickly apologized before darting out of the house. Ceil sighed, but smiled at the same time.

Her son was certainly living up to his father's role.

* * *

**A/N: 20 minutes later.**

"He's late." The Dark Lord muttered from his upside-down position on the ceiling.

"They're all late." Athena murmured in reply as she twanged the bowstring of her Shinebow lightly, the thin piece of fibre vibrating minutely.

"Don't you think we gave them too short a notice? We are giving them only fifteen minutes to get here, and Agents can move much faster than normal players." Dances with Balrog wondered from his meditating position right on top of the scalding-hot coals in Sleepywood's VIP sauna.

"With the gifts he received from us, Ryden should be the first of them to arrive here. And not even he has arrived yet." Grendel replied.

The doors to the sauna suddenly opened, and four pairs of eyes gravitated to said doors, expecting to see Ryden barging through. Instead, Zeraion Phoenix, Ascion Blade, and an axe-fighter walked in.

"Sorry we're late, Athena. We received your Agent's message rather... late." Zeraion apologized.

"No matter, Phoenix. All the better that you arrived first; Ryden and the others are late." Athena said, gesturing for the three to make themselves at home.

"The others?" Ascion asked, wondering what she meant by that.

"You'll see what we are talking about in due time. Now, just make yourselves at home." Grendel told the young cleric.

Dances with Balrog addressed the axe-fighter as he sat down onto the coals next to him. "So, Ark, how's your training going?"

"It's going just fine, master. There's no need to worry about me." Ark Wolfen, elder brother to both Zeraion Phoenix and Ascion Blade, answered.

"So, Athena, what is this meeting all about?" Zeraion queried. Athena was about to answer when the doors to the sauna opened again. A blue-eyed level 46 Bandit stepped in, and he glanced in surprise at the other three who had arrived before him.

"Tora. It's about time you got here." The Dark Lord said, dropping down from the ceiling and greeting the bandit.

"Sorry I'm late, Dark Lord. There was some pretty heavy monster traffic on the way here." Tora apologized with a slight bow.

"Maybe that would explain why Ryden is taking so long..." Dances with Balrog muttered to himself.

"Dances, heavy monster traffic can't possibly be the reason why Ryden is taking so long." Athena exclaimed exasperatedly. "Thanks to the powers we gave him, he's become so strong that he could probably mow through them in seconds!"

"Precisely. He's taking so long because he's been mowing through so many hordes that he's deliberately wasting time trying out his new Deathbringer." Dances explained with conviction.

Athena didn't appear satisfied with his explanation, but the look of annoyance on her face vanished when a distant shout of "_Distortion Drive!_" echoed throughout the sauna.

The sound of a cataclysmic explosion followed soon after, and everyone rushed to the window, wondering what the hell was going on. As they gazed outside, the four regular players stumbled backwards in shock as they tried to take in the scene before them, and even the Four Wise Men's eyes widened in surprise.

"That boy is a bleeding show-off..." Grendel muttered as he watched Ryden salvage what was left of the monster horde that had been chasing him until Sleepywood's gate. The corpses of Green and Horny Mushrooms, Jr. Neckis, Slimes, and Curse Eyes littered the ground for yards around him. Casually, he picked through the remains, stuffing into his pack dozens of mushroom caps, necki skins, squishy liquids and curse eye tails. All around him players were eyeing him in awe, and some were even edging away carefully, almost as if they were afraid that Ryden might decide to unleash his wrath on them next.

Ignoring the blatant stares the others were giving him, Ryden sheathed Alastor as it reverted back into its katana form, receding from its appearance of a dragon-greatsword. Hearing a familiar voice call his name, he glanced backwards, and Roxi came running up to him.

"Ryden? What are you doing here?" The magician asked.

"The Four Wise Men called me here for some kind of meeting. You?" Ryden replied, dimly noting that she was already wearing level 30 magician clothing.

"Huh... same here. I wonder what they're calling us about?" Roxi wondered, looking towards the hotel building.

Ryden glanced up to the hotel window, where the Four Wise Men were watching him.

"Only way to find out is to go in." The fighter stated, and he entered the building with her.

* * *

"Wait, so you're saying you want to assemble a crack-team of elite players with _me _as the leader?" Ryden asked incredulously, his eyes almost bugging out. 

Grendel took no notice of the young warrior's surprise. "That is correct, and a majority of the team will be comprised of survivors of the raid on Last Hope; people such as Roxi, Zeraion, Tora, and yourself. Ascion and Ark were included in the team because we believed it to be more beneficial if the three brothers were together."

"Wait a minute, Master Grendel." Ascion interjected. "Why us? None of us are third-jobbers yet, how can you expect us to fight Necropolis like this?"

"Ryden will help you train. Thanks to the training that he received from us, he is stronger than any normal player, and can easily handle any monster that even a third-job player would have trouble with." Athena answered for him.

Tora eyed Ryden out of the corner of his eye. "Is that so? If he's so strong, how come he's only level 35?"

Dances with Balrog chuckled. "Ryden, my boy, show him."

Grinning cockily, Ryden drew out his Deathbringer. "Come, Alastor!" Immediately the katana grew in size and morphed in shape, metamorphasizing into a massive steel behemoth. The simple, round hilt transformed into a dragon's head, and a pair of great dragon wings grew to take the shape of the crossguard. Ryden then made a few stylish, lightning-fast passes with Alastor, weaving through attack patterns so intricate that it seemed almost as if he were dancing. By the time he was finished, Alastor's lightning had left so many trails around him that it looked as though his body was generating lightning bolts of its own.

Needless to say, Tora was impressed enough to keep his mouth shut.

"As I said earlier, he will help you train and, if at all possible, teach you to free your minds from this reality to an extent similar to his." Athena continued. "We will leave it to you to form your bonds as team-mates; it will be crucial to your success against Necropolis as a squad."

"So, the six of us will be working together now?" Ark asked.

"Indeed. Together, the six of you will be our best, and perhaps our only truly effective weapon against Necropolis. Ryden may be The One, but there is only so much one man can accomplish on his own. With help from the five of you, his job of protecting Bera from the hackers will be much easier." Grendel answered.

"Collectively, your squad will be known throughout Bera as 'The Dead Six'; an elite commando team formed from the ragtag remnants of Last Hope, and Necropolis' greatest enemy. As such, each of you will be assigned code names to assist in identifying each other in combat while maintaining covertness, as well as aliases that the enemy will come to dread should they ever hear of you." The Dark Lord stated, returning to his position on the ceiling.

Athena Pierce turned to Ryden. "You, Son of Dracon, will be appointed Squad Leader of The Dead Six. Your code name shall be 'Havoc', as your name is what you live to do; to wreak Havoc on Necropolis."

She then turned to Zeraion. "You, Zeraion Phoenix, will be appointed second-in-command and Squad I.C. Your code name shall be 'Deadeye'. As your instructor, I know all too well your top marksmanship, and your nearly flawless strike record of 200 meters and beyond."

Turning to Ascion, she said, "You, Ascion Blade, will be appointed as Squad Medic. Your code name shall be 'Patch'. As a cleric, it is your duty to ensure that the squad members are kept alive and healthy."

To Ark, she said, "You, Ark Wolfen, will be appointed as Squad Heavy Weapons specialist. Your code name shall be 'Gunner'. As a warrior, your great strength allows you to wield heavy weapons that most of your squad mates are unable to handle; use that strength against Necropolis."

To Tora, she said, "You, Tora, will be appointed as Squad Covert Ops specialist and Scout. Your code name shall be 'Shadow'. As a thief your skill in subterfuge, sabotage, and wet work will be invaluable in times when stealth is needed. You should prepare to work together with Zeraion a lot; infiltration specialists make great spotters for snipers."

And finally, to Roxi, she said, "And you, Roxi, will be appointed as Squad Demolitions expert. Your code name shall be 'Hotwire'. As a fire/poison wizard, your proficiency in pyrotechnics and poisons will allow you to create many ingenious techniques that will prove very useful against hard targets that even Ark will not be able to handle."

Ryden realized with a start that Roxi had already made her job advancement; people were certainly catching up with him. If Roxi had leveled up that much already since the last time he saw her, who knew what level Astella was at now...

Athena Pierce continued to speak. "Now, as a squad, you first orders are to start training together. Bond with each other and build rapport, teamwork is key in an elite squad such as yours. Once all of you have improved by at least five levels, come and see us. Then we shall give you your first real mission."

The Four Wise Men got up to depart, leaving the newly-formed squad in the sauna. They all stood in silence for several minutes before Ascion finally piped up, "So... anyone got any idea where to start training?"

* * *

"Aaarrghhh!!!" 

Ascion immediately threw himself out of the way of the immense fireball, dodging the flames as he rolled behind a nearby rock. The Fire Drake that had launched the fireball roared a complaint, and it started to stomp closer, circling around the boulder Ascion was hiding behind.

"Holy crap! Someone get me outta here!" Ascion cried out as the Fire Drake caught sight of him again and launched another fireball. He quickly teleported out of the blast radius, and continued to do so until he reached Roxi, who was hiding behind another boulder some distance away. The Drake immediately started after him, but a flurry of arrows struck its side, and it roared in irritation as it turned to face its assailant. Releasing another blast of flame, it started to pursue Zeraion as the hunter ducked behind cover to avoid the fireball.

"Roxi, where the hell is Ryden? It was his idea that we come here and train, he's the one who should be killing all theses Drakes!' Ascion said to the fire wizard anxiously, glancing around and searching for said warrior, wondering where in Bera was their squad leader. "Damnit, we're just not built for this!"

Roxi tried to calm down the frantic cleric. "Relax Ascion, Ryden's probably dealing with another bunch of Fire Drakes elsewhere. Once he's done, he'll come help us. In the meantime, all we have to do is keep this Drake busy with a game of cat-and-mouse."

Ascion snorted. "Oh yeah, like it's that simple. Roxi, it's only a matter of time before that Drake nails one of us, and it'll hunt us down one by one! Unless Ryden gets here soon, we're toast, literally!"

"You underestimate your teammates' capabilities." A voice suddenly stated from behind him. Ascion nearly jumped five feet in the air, and he spun around to face Tora.

"You! Please, do you thieves always have to sneak up on people?" Tora ignored the comment as he peeked out from behind the boulder for a moment, sending out a few hand signals. Ark suddenly plopped down beside them, followed by Zeraion a few moments later.

"Relax, Ass Blade." Ark remarked in a laid-back manner. "We can take this Fire Drake down no problem, all we have to do is to work together. Right, Zer?"

Zeraion nodded. "So, Tora, I assume you have a plan?"

"Indeed." The bandit replied. "I have studied extensively the art of Kyushu-jitsu; the art of pressure point fighting. In layman's terms, I know exactly where to strike on that Drake's body to immobilize it, rob it of its ability to release flames, etc. etc. What I need is a diversion to distract the Drake so that I can sneak up on it while in Dark Sight. Once I'm on the Drake, attack it with everything you have. I'll immobilize it first chance I get, and from there it's a simple matter of whittling it down its strength until it dies."

Zeraion nodded in approval of the bandit's plan. "All right. Ascion, Roxi, you two go out there and get the Drake's attention. Distract it until Ark can get in close with Tora. If things get too hot for you guys to handle, I'll send in a few arrow bombs to stun it, and you can then make your escape."

"What!? Why me?" Ascion complained. "Why do I have to be the bait?"

"Because you're the fastest amongst us, Ass Blade. You and Roxi both have teleport, that'll allow you to dodge its fireballs easily." Ark replied, thumping his brother on the shoulder. "Go on, bro. Just keep teleporting and you'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say..." Ascion grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly stepped out from cover with Roxi, facing the Drake.

"Hey you! Lizard breath! Yeah, I'm talking to you!" Ascion hollered out, wincing inwardly at his goading. Surely there were better ways to attempt suicide...

The Fire Drake's head snapped in his direction, and let out a triumphant roar of discovery. Ascion's false bravado immediately evaporated as the Drake released a fireball, and shrieked in terror before Roxi grabbed his arm and teleported them both away. Bellowing in frustration, the Drake stomped after them, releasing fireball after fireball.

Tora faded into the shadows just as Ark burst out from behind the boulder, roaring a battle cry. The Drake, shifting focus from the teleporting magicians to the charging warrior, turned to face Ark, unaware of the bandit sneaking up on it. Howling, the Drake unleashed a blast of flame at the axe-fighter. Ark rolled out of the way, flames licking at his armor but avoiding the worst of the blast. The Drake was about to release another breath of flame when four magic claw attacks buried themselves in its side. Roaring, the Drake turned to face the two magicians, who were hurling their spells at it from afar. Roxi ignited a fire arrow and launched it at the Drake, only to see it disappear in a much greater fireball that was approaching them at great speeds.

Swearing as she realized she was out of mana, she grabbed a blue potion from her pack and was about to gulp it down when Ascion grabbed her wrist and teleported them both to safety, just as the fireball impacted on the ground they were standing on a split-second ago. She nodded her thanks, and watched as Ark threw himself onto the distracted Drake, slashing and cutting at it with several Power Strikes. Ark leapt backwards as the Drake snapped at him with its jaws, and he swore as the heat from its breath seared his exposed skin and blackened his armor. The Drake attempted to bite at him again, but an arrow bomb streaked into its open maw and exploded with such force that the Drake stumbled backwards, howling in pain as fire that was not its own spewed out from its jaws.

Glancing backwards, Ark briefly gave Zeraion a nod of thanks before he leapt upon the Drake again, his axe biting deep into the monster's flesh.

Kicking wildly, the Drake sent Ark flying backwards with a solid blow to the gut. The warrior slammed into a nearby rock wall so hard that it cracked. Moaning in pain, Ark slid to the ground, struggling to get to his feet.

The Drake prepared to release another blast of flame upon its downed prey, pausing only to throw back its head in a triumphant howl. Zeraion swore and quickly notched in another explosive arrow, only to watch in surprise, as the Drake froze in mid-howl, its body stiffening up until it became an immobile statue. Only its eyes were moving, and they were darting around frantically, trying to search out the cause of its sudden petrification.

Tora materialized on the Drake's back, and he leapt to the ground while brandishing a Maple Wagner.

"Savage Blow!" He cried out, his body blurring as he unleashed six rapid-fire strikes onto the immobile Drake. Ark immediately leapt in with a Power Strike, followed by a vicious Final Attack that rent a great gash on the beast's chest. Unable to retaliate, the Drake was helpless as the group continued to pummel it with several attacks, whittling down its strength.

Tora was about to deliver another Double Stab when the Drake's head suddenly twitched in his direction. Out of the blue, the drake's jaws snapped forward, intent on claiming Tora as a meal, but the bandit backflipped backwards with lightning-fast speed, avoiding the drake's maw easily.

Surprised, the party stumbled back as the Drake suddenly got to its feet, the effects of Tora's pressure point manipulation having worn off. Roaring in fury, the Drake unleashed a blast of searing heat at them. Roxi and Ascion quickly teleported out of the way, and Tora quickly cast Haste, allowing him and Ark to make a quick getaway. Bleeding from several wounds but largely undeterred, the Drake started after them, howling in rage.

The Drake was about to release another blast of flame when the sight of a level 35 warrior caught its attention. Eager for a quick, easy kill and the opportunity to relieve its anger, the Drake launched forth another fireball.

To its utter surprise, the warrior leapt up to a height so great that it easily cleared the blast radius with much distance to spare, and he landed with almost perfect balance. The warrior drew his weapon, and the Drake saw that it wielded a massive steel sword with a dragon's maw as the hilt. The blade crackled with blue arcs of electricity, and the Drake briefly wondered if it had bitten off more than it could chew.

The last thing it saw was an immense beam of lightning being launched from the sword, and the last thing it heard was a cry of ''Distortion Drive!''

* * *

The Drake's corpse, blackened and charred, slumped to the ground with a loud thud. Ryden lowered Alastor, the blade still crackling with energy, and he slung the sword across his back. Distortion Drive was draining to use constantly, and already he was starting to become exhausted. He gulped down a white potion as his teammates emerged from cover, and called out, "Hey guys, did you miss me?" 

Ascion merely glared at him resentfully. "Well excuse me, 'Havoc', but we're not built to handle Drakes like you are! We almost got killed just now!"

Ark thumped his brother on the shoulder with a grin. "Aw, come on, 'Patch', it wasn't that bad. I haven't had a fight that good in years! Isn't that right, Zer?"

Zeraion nodded. Fire Drakes were normally too powerful for him to even consider taking on alone, but with the squad with him it had turned into an exhilarating, though still dangerous activity, and one that he looked forward to repeating.

"What? You too, Zer? Geez, am I the only one here that finds hunting Fire Drakes at level 42 insane?" Ascion cried out, frustrated that nobody was agreeing with him. He turned to Roxi, who merely looked exhausted.

"I agree with Ascion. I'm tired... Ryden, can we go back to rest?" She asked, already hunched over and panting, sweating profusely.

"Go ahead. I'm sure Zer, Ark, and Tora can handle more, though." Ryden said, looking at the aforementioned three. To his surprise, Ark gave a loud yawn and stretched out his arms lazily, remarking, "Ryden, it's been a long day. We only managed to kill four Drakes in twelve hours. If you ask me, I'd take a break before continuing. Come on, Zer."

Together, the three brothers left, along with Roxi. Tora glanced between Ryden and the departing quartet before leaving with them without saying a word.

Ryden stood there in silence for a moment. _Fine, let them go. I don't need to train with them anyway. I can always do things on my own._

He shrugged it off and turned on his heel, unslinging Alastor and letting the tip touch the ground. Already, he could feel the tremors in the ground; telltale signs of an approaching Drake. All right, time to test out the new move he'd devised after experimenting with Distortion Drive...

A Fire Drake stomped into view. It stopped, sniffed the air, and slowly its blood red gaze fell upon Ryden, who stared back without fear. Roaring, the Drake charged, unleashing a blast of flame much like those that Ryden had dodged before. Smirking, Ryden easily sidestepped the fireball and pushed Alastor's tip slightly further into the soil. Reversing his grip on the handle, he stepped forward before slashing forward with the tip still embedded in the ground.

"Drive!" He roared, the tip of the blade breaking free of the ground in a fountain of dirt. An immense shockwave of electrical energy shot up from the soil, surging towards the Drake. The monster, surprised at the sudden turn of events, could only watch as the lightning bolts struck it head-on. The sheer amounts of energy seared its very flesh from its bones, and it howled in agony as its skin blackened and charred. After several agonizing seconds, the energy from Ryden's attack dissipated, and the Drake's corpse toppled to the ground.

Ryden exhaled in satisfaction. The drain of using Drive alone was not as bad as using Distortion Drive as a whole, and apparently it still retained the deadliness of the latter. He reslung Alastor over his back and grabbed a pack of energy pills that Zeraion had brought over from Ludibrium and given to him. Popping five of the pills at once, he felt the energy rush back into him as his mana reserves were replenished. He brandished Alastor and was about to resume training when a sudden tremor from behind caught his attention.

This was puzzling because while tremors were commonplace in Perion's Dangerous Valley, this tremor seemed... concentrated somewhat.

He turned around, and balked at the sight of a dozen Drakes stomping up to him at once. They opened their maws, uttering a collective roar, and Ryden nearly dropped Alastor. Five Drakes he could handle without a problem, but_ a dozen?_ Things could get a little hot in here.

The foremost trio of Drakes released flames at him simultaneously, and Ryden gritted his teeth as he prepared to dodge the attack. Tensing at the last possible moment, he shouted "Air Trick!"

He vanished from sight for a split-second before reappearing several feet closer to the Drakes, and totally clear of the blast radius. Roaring a battle cry, he leapt forward and brandished Spiral, slamming a twelve-bolt magazine into the crossbow-shotgun. With a yell of "Fireworks!" he defied the laws of crossbow operation by swinging around the weapon like a pair of nun-chuks. Every Drake around him was knocked to the ground by the sheer force of the blasts as Ryden clicked off several shots in a single second, firing Spiral in all directions.

Leaping into the air as he exhausted his last shot, he ejected the spent magazine and smoothly slid in a mythril-tipped bolt. "Trick Shot!" He cried out as he landed, instantaneously drawing a bead on a Drake and squeezing off a pinpoint shot that left a bloody hole in the center of its forehead. Even as the Drake's corpse toppled to the ground, Ryden was already holstering Spiral and drawing out Kalina Ann as the mythril bolt continued to ricochet around, piercing through multiple Drakes and stunning the unhurt ones while killing those that had been wounded earlier by his shotgun-assault.

Drawing back the bowstring and notching in an explosive arrow, he shouted "Hysteric!" The moment the arrow was released, it_ split up_, dividing into a barrage of miniature streaks of light that zoomed around the area in a spread pattern. The mini-arrows, having been imbued with a heat-seeking nature by their caster, immediately homed in on the nearest source of heat, which happened to be the Drake closest to Ryden. The Drake roared in pain as multiple explosions pummeled it, and its badly burnt carcass slid to the ground.

Only three Drakes were left alive now; Ryden immediately leapt at the nearest one, brandishing Alastor in his right hand while wielding the Force Edge in his left. Swinging both weapons in a devastating flurry of strikes, the Drake was mutilated as Ryden finished off with a bloody cross-slash that split the Drake in two. Cocking the Force Edge over his shoulder, he hurled the claymore at the second-last Drake while diving at the last with Alastor crackling in his grip. The Force Edge embedded itself in the chest of the Drake that stood several feet away from him, and it merely let out a long breath of flame that didn't even reach more than a few feet before it collapsed. The last, foolishly deciding to make a stand, slashed at Ryden with its claws. Ryden easily dodged the attack with a forward flip, and he leapt high into the air, Alastor held over his head.

"Helm Breaker!" He shouted, swinging Alastor with such force that he came crashing downwards like an anvil. The Drake's skull was totally shattered as Alastor's blade impacted against it, and the bloody remains of its head toppled to the ground, followed by the rest of its body.

Sighing, Ryden holstered Alastor over his back and strode over to the corpse of the other Drake, yanking out the Force Edge and sheathing it. Really, the Drakes here were a disappointment. Not even twelve of them could stand up to him. Was the rift between him and the others in terms of skill that great?

He snapped out his PDA and glanced at his status window. Yes, training at the Drakes had allowed him to advance rapidly; he had already leveled four times within twelve hours of training. Returning the device to his pocket, he dug out a return scroll from his pack. _Time to hit the sack, I guess._ He thought to himself.

He was about to invoke the transporting magicks stored inside the scroll when a familiar voice shouted out his name.

_Wha-_ Was all he managed to think before somebody tackled him from behind, sending them both sprawling. Expecting an assault, Ryden immediately tried to throw his 'assailant' off of him, but whoever it was, he or she had a grip as solid as rock.

"Ryden, what are you doing? It's me!" Ryden finally had the sense to stop struggling, and he twisted around to see the welcome visage of his girlfriend.

"Astella!" The fighter exclaimed, his lips spreading out into a wide grin as he returned the hug that she had so forcefully given him. "What are you doing here?"

The cleric's expression, which had seemed joyful at the reunion, suddenly fell. "I... was sent here by my guild. They had heard that Last Hope survivors were operating in the vicinity, and they sent me to investigate. Oh, Ryden, when I heard that Last Hope's headquarters was destroyed in the raid, I feared the worst..."

Ryden quickly silenced her with a finger on her lips. "It's all right, 'Stella. I'm still alive, and so are some of my guild mates. But enough about that, how have you been doing so far?" He asked, concerned.

"My guild has been pressuring me to take on intensive training regimes. They say that I should live up to the legacy of my mother... They told me that she was a renowned ice and lightning mage during Dracon's time. I'm already level fifty-two, and they still say I'm not good enough." She explained. Ryden's jaw almost dropped; Necropolis' hacks must have boosted her strength so greatly that even his augmented abilities probably paled in comparison to hers. He would hate to be any of the poor bastards that she'd be ordered to hunt down by her guild master.

Astella must have seen his shocked expression, for she set a reassuring hand on his cheek. "Don't worry, Ryden. Like you said, we won't let our guilds get in the way of our relationship, right?"

"Yeah... right." Though he still stood a full head taller than her, he still felt horribly inferior as he mentally compared himself to her. "You didn't come here with anyone from your guild, did you?"

Astella shook her head. "No, I was sent here alone. I thought it'd just be a routine assignment, but never did I expect to find you..."

"All the better. I was thinking of going back to Perion to hit the sack, but now that you're here..."

"... We can train together." The cleric finished his sentence for him, grinning.

Ryden returned the smile. "Just like old times, eh 'Stella?"

"Yeah. Just like old times."

* * *

They couldn't have asked for more. They were members from opposing guilds, and yet they were in love, and could express it somewhat freely. Given the situation, things were already going very well. The two of them trained for countless hours, and even through the night, never tiring. Ryden advanced by another two levels while Astella managed another one level, and by the time the sun had risen, the two of them were lying together, collapsed against a rock wall, exhausted. 

"That was... a great... training session, Ryden..." Astella panted, trying to catch her breath. Pulling a bottle of Pure Water out from her pack, she started to drain it. "We should do this more often." She said in between gulps of the refreshing liquid.

"Yeah... we really should... I swear, training has never been so fun." Ryden gasped back, breathing harshly. He popped a mana elixir pill and washed it down with a couple of white potions, healing the wounds on his body and lifting some of the exhaustion.

Slowly, Astella shifted herself closer to Ryden, laying her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun rise. "You know..." She said. "There's hardly anything I wouldn't give to make this moment last forever."

"Same here." Ryden replied. "I wish we could all just live in peace... Just what is Necropolis thinking? No offense, 'Stella, but your Guild Master must be a major prick to think he can take over the world just like this with Koaxia's legacy."

The cleric giggled at Ryden's insulting of her guild master. "None taken, Ryden. I never liked my guild superiors anyway. It's always 'Go Here, Do This, Go There, Do that' with them. There's no real gratification from doing your job right, just a proverbial pat on the head and they send you on your way. The only real rewards are the hacks they give us, but with those life just gets too easy. Unless of course, you run into the likes of Smith..." The moment she mentioned the former Agent's name, her face instantly hardened, and she suddenly got to her feet. "I have to get stronger. I have to gain more power. Only then can I find him, and defeat him."

Ryden stared up at her. Did she really bear that great a grudge against Smith? Apparently it had grown into something of a personal vendetta.

"Come on, Ryden. Let's continue training. You never know when Koaxia might pop up." She said to him, bolting off deeper into the valley. Ryden dragged himself to his feet and started after her, still brooding over what she had said. Had her encounter with Smith scarred her to the point that she believed the pursuit of power was the only way to defeat him? If past experience indicated anything, Astella was pursuing a non-existent dream - nobody he knew in this world could possible hope to stand up to Smith, save for perhaps the Four Wise Men.

No, he wouldn't allow her to continue on like this. If she continued to pursue power mindlessly in her quest to find and defeat Smith, she would only end up killing herself. Ryden couldn't bear to let that happen.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that Astella had already gotten far, far ahead of him, and was already slaughtering Drakes by the dozens. Ryden finally realized how much he was lagging behind and sought to catch up by tapping into his Draconic Speed, but a familiar voice calling out his name halted him in his tracks. He dug his heels into the ground, skidding to a stop, and looked around. Roxi was running up to him from the valley entrance, looking panicky. She came up to him, panting and gasping for breath, and incoherent words tumbled out of her mouth in a valiant effort to articulate some piece of news despite her exhaustion.

She looked up helplessly at him, and Ryden offered her a bottle of Pure Water. She gratefully accepted the bottle and drained it in a single gulp.

"What is it, Roxi? What's got you so riled up?" Ryden asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Her expression frantic, she told him, "I've got bad news, Ryden. The Wise Men just went to your mother's house to meet with her, but she's gone! There were signs of a struggle in the house, and the emblem of Necropolis was found emblazoned onto the wall. Ryden, I think she's been kidnapped!"

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger! I decided not to make you guys wait any longer so I'll just post this chapter up now. Kal was about to piss his pants waiting for the update, so I won't make him suffer any longer. By the way, updates are really slow because I've been swamped with schoolwork lately, not to mention that I've suddenly been selected by my 'kind' teachers to take part in numerous competitions, and the preparations for the competitions only served to worsen the lack of time to write. Anyway, you know the drill. Keep reviewing, and the chapters will keep coming. 

Chief out.


	10. Radical Rescue

Disclaimer: zzzzzzzzz...

* * *

A/N: To you know who, please define what you mean as "ghei". If you mean gay then I'd take it you either have homosexual desires with either of the authors or any character in the story. As such I would like to apologize. We are strictly against homosexualities so Ryden won't be sharing a bed with you, or anyone else for that matter. Alternatively if you rather old literature I'll view it as you're so frickin happy when you read this story you feel, well, gay. 

If you mean the 1337sp43k version "ghey", then I'd take the actual meaning of it (meaning overpowered, buffed, or just too damn good). As such I would like to extend my gratitude to you for the compliment.

Moral of the story: If you wanna flame, do it right. You're dealing with 24/7 hardcore gamers here who've been embroiled in perpetual World of Warcraft flaming battles over forums, so we're pretty much worth our salt. If you wanna use 1337sp34k, use it right too. Its amazing despite regular usage how many people can get it wrong. All I can say is 1337 pwnz00rz j00 n00b! We r0xx0rzz j00r b0xxorrx!

P.S.: If you've read EVERY chapter in then please tell me, on the 13th of March 2007, which story was #19 in the Halo section of Video games?

* * *

Chapter 10: Radical Rescue

"Necropolis personnel have occupied Junction 21." The Dark Lord indicated a section of the map of Kerning City that was laid out across the conference table, circling it with a red marker. "They're holding Ceil somewhere in there. The way I see it, if we drop our Agents down from broadcast here, Intersect 1-53, we might be able to surprise them." He circled out a second region, pointing out the weaknesses that Necropolis had overlooked in their defenses to the other Wise Men, who were gathered at the same table and were perusing over the map.

"The Agents go first, and hammer as deep as they can to create an opening. Hopefully, we'll can maintain it long enough for..." The Dark Lord didn't get any further as Ryden burst through the doors of the meeting room. Roxi followed in behind him a few seconds later, looking exhausted, but Ryden was far too worked up to even be exhausted.

"Where's my mother? What happened? Necropolis has her, don't they? Why..." Ryden halted in mid-sentence when Dances with Balrog raised a palm up at him, indicating silence.

"They've got her held in Kerning City, somwhere inside Junction 21. We're already formulating an alternative entry plan; Necropolis has the area heavily fortified." Athena explained to him. "We had already launched an assault on the area two hours ago, but we failed. Our reinforcements and support personnel are due within six hours, and once we have gathered the necessary force, a concentrated effort should be able to break through."

Ryden definitely wasn't in the mood for this bullshit about the lack of supporting personnel and backup. The Agents could go screw themselves for all he cared; if the previous assault had failed, this one would too. "They've got my mom held prisoner in there; we can't wait six hours! _Let's roll!_"

Athena opened her mouth to rebuke the young warrior for his brashness, but Grendel interrupted her. "Ryden, this is loco! They've got Ceil held inside a fully occupied Necropolis building, and even _if_ you somehow got inside, those are Necropolis Council Members holding her! Three of them. Ceil is like a daughter to me, Ryden; I want her back too, but what you're talking about is _suicide_."

"Screw suicide, Grendel. Nothing's gonna stop me from rescuing my mother. If you're not gonna back me up, then get the hell out of my way."

A grin spread across Dances with Balrog's face. "You're just as stubborn as your father, Ryden. Very well. Athena, get Rathias Gardner on the line. We need those reinforcements yesterday. Dark Lord, mobilise all our remaining support personnel; Ryden won't be going in alone."

* * *

The helicopter streaked across Kerning City's overcast sky, coming to land at the top of an ominous-looking building, one that was built out of concrete slabs that were as dark as night, and had utterly black windows that nobody could see into. Several Necropolis members piled out of the chopper, all of them carrying recently-acquired firearms that had been raided from Omega Sector's numerous armories, and were supposed to be superior to any other weapon in Bera. The thieves carried small, rapid-fire devices that were called 'Machine Pistols', the bowmen possessed larger versions of the Machine Pistols that the thieves carried with longer barrels and greater accuracy, called 'Assault Rifles', while the warriors hefted immense, large-bore rifles that were as long as the Assault Rifles but were at least half again as thick; these were the 'Shotguns'. Last of all, the Magicians carried an even smaller version of the Machine Pistol, but its barrel was as large as that of the shotgun, and it allegedly had more punch than all the other three weapons put together; they called it the 'Handgun'. 

All of the Necropolis members were armed with such new devices, except for the largest, most imposing one amongst them. This magician did not carry any one of the aforementioned devices, but his sheer presence alone radiated enough power to indicate that he was more powerful than the entire group even if they had been put together and multiplied many times over.

Sindri watched as his subordinates scrambled from the chopper and into the building; the last assault from the Four Wise Men had been beaten back, but not without great cost. A majority of the Initiates stationed here had been killed off by the assaulting Agents, while half of the Rebels had fallen alongside their guild juniors. Thankfully, only a few of the fully-fledged Hackers had perished, and a majority of the reinforcements brought in by the chopper Sindri had been riding were newbies who had just recently joined Necropolis in hopes of gaining ultimate power.

Chuckling at the foolhardiness of the Initiates, Sindri followed the reinforcements into the building. He knew that not many of those newbies would actually survive long enough to reach the third-class; Necropolis' training regimes were harsh and demanding. Over half of the Initiates that joined typically didn't even make it past the first week of training, and by the time the first month had passed, only a quarter of the original number was likely to remain. Such was the way of Necropolis, though; if you're not strong enough, then you're not meant to survive in the first place.

Sindri chucked such thoughts into the back of his mind; matters like these were not his concern. Leave it to those blokes in Administration, he had better things to do.

Like to go and see how the interrogation of the priestess was going.

* * *

"Have you ever stood and stared at it? Marvelled at its beauty? Its genius?" Dreznor murmured, staring out the window and at the metropolis of Kerning City. "Billions of people, just... living out their lives. Oblivious..." 

Ceil grimaced as she tested the strength of her bonds again; the steel cuffs were as solid as ever. And with the magical wards placed around the room, she was unable to call upon any of her holy arts to augment her strength; not that it would have been of any help, though. Apart from the Council Member standing across the room at the windows, another two of them were in the room as well, the other Voidwalker overseeing the alpha patterns being displayed across the screen of his laptop, the readings being taken by sensors attached directly to the priestess' head and neck. The other council member, the Headhunter, sat at the table adjacent to her seat, tinkering with an array of vials, syringes, and needles.

"Did you know that the first server was created to be perfect world, where none suffered? Where everyone would be... 'happy'?" Dreznor finally turned to face Ceil, and asked her.

"It was a _disaster_. No one would accept the reality, entire crops were lost. Some believed that... the Game Masters lacked the programming language to describe our 'perfect world', but _I _believe that, as a species, human beings define their existence through misery and suffering. So the perfect world was a dream that our primitive cerebrums kept trying to 'wake up' from." The Voidwalker continued, walking closer to Ceil as the Headhunter drew a syringeful of a clear liquid from a vial and roughly jabbed the needle into Ceil's neck. The priestess fought to bite back the cry of pain, and she merely let out a soft grunt as the needle withdrew after several seconds.

"Which is why the server was redesigned to _this..._" Dreznor said as he strode behind the priestess' chair, Ceil's eyes glazing over slightly as she attempted to fight against the mind-numbing effects of the truth serum. "The peak of your civilisation. Now, when I say 'your civilisation', as soon as the hackers rise to power, it will essentially become _our_ civilisation, which is, of course, what this is all about. Evolution, my dear priestess. Evolution. Like... the dinosaur."

Dreznor then bent down, lowering his head until it was adjacent to Ceil's, both of them facing the window.

"Look out that window. You had your time. The future is _our_ world, Ceil. The future is _our _time."

Ceil knew what Dreznor wanted; he wanted to find her son so he could remove the last true obstacle in Necropolis' path to total dominance over Bera.

_No!_ She furiously thought to herself, and shut her eyes tightly, fighting against the impulses that the truth serum was forcing upon her and steeling herself against the ardous torture that she knew awaited her. But she also knew what would happen if she were to break, and she refused to let that happen. She would not betray her son like this!

Unexpectedly, the door to the room opened, and Sindri stepped in.

"There could be a problem." He announced.

* * *

"All right, so what do you need?" Ascion asked as he plopped himself into seat in front of the rezzing control panel, donning the headset and pulling the keyboards towards him, his hands ready to type in commands to rez in whatever Ryden needed. "Besides a miracle." 

Inside the rezzing room, Ryden and Zeraion stood together, already clad in full battle gear, sans their weapons. Zeraion was clearly disturbed at going in without his trusty Olympus, but Ryden had other things in mind. He mentally apologised to Alastor for leaving the blade behind, but for where he was going having a giant sword strapped to his back wasn't going to be of much help.

"Guns." Ryden finally concluded after a few seconds. "Lots of guns."

Outside, Ascion took Ryden's instruction to heart, and he typed in, word for word, 'Lots Of Guns'. Dropping his finger down on the 'execute' button, he saw the rez room immediately fill itself with racks upon racks of firearms not unlike those the Necropolis troopers were armed with.

Zeraion watched as Ryden tentatively picked a machine pistol up from the nearest rack.

"Ryden, no one has ever done anything like this in the history of the entire world. This is crazy." The archer finally said.

Ryden looked at Zeraion with a cocky grin. "That's why it's going to work." With that, he slammed his fist against the slide of the weapon, chambering a round.

* * *

"Never send a bunch of Rebels to do a Hacker's job..." Dreznor muttered after Sindri told him that the GMs had traced their activities to their current location. 

"If indeed they have launched an assault, they will place this building under siege as soon as possible, unless..." The headhunter, named Raveshaw, commented.

"Our forces have managed to repel them." Sindri finished for him.

"In either case, we have no choice but to continue as planned. Deploy the seeker teams. Immediately." Dreznor ordered.

* * *

The Necropolis guards stationed at Junction 21's central building had no idea what was coming. When the warrior wearing a long, black trenchcoat stepped through the revolving doors of the building, the guards had assumed he was simply just another ordinary player who didn't realise the GMs' Agents were already placing the whole area under siege. 

Which is why the guards, acting under orders, merely went about their normal duties as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

But the moment the warrior stepped through the metal detector, it started beeping like nuts. Taking it in their stride, one of the guards simply walked over to the warrior with a small tray in his hand and a handheld metal detector.

"Please remove any metallic items you're carrying; keys, loose change-" The guard didn't get any further as the warrior opened his trenchcoat, revealing the massive number of firearms he had stashed beneath it.

"Holy shit!" Was all the guard could utter before the warrior folded him in half with a cobra-quick palm strike. The guard was sent flying backwards several feet, and the others that were on station glanced up from their mundane activites to see just what the hell was causing all that racket.

What greeted them was a hail of bullets from the two machine pistols that the warrior had somehow drawn from within his trenchcoat within a split-second. The guards were cut down within seconds, and the warrior's accuracy with the weapons seemed strangely as sharp as that of an assassin's. Those that didn't instinctively dive for cover were instantly ripped to shreds by the storm of lead.

The only remaining guard still alive stumbled out from behind a pillar, his crossbow drawn and held one-handed while he frantically spoke into a radio with his other.

"Backup! Send backup!" He gasped into the radio, trying to find if anybody else had survived the warrior's assault; apparently, the warrior was as accurate as he was swift. Nobody else was alive. Then, as though the gods were cursing him, _another_ person entered the building, the metal detector beeping feebly as he passed through. The newcomer, also clad in black, but this time in bowman armor, hefted a machine pistol of his own and aimed it at the lone survivor.

The guard tried to aim his crossbow at the newcomer, but he didn't even get his arm to move more than a couple of inches before the bowman blew him to kingdom come with a volley of lead.

Zeraion cast away the empty submachine gun with a look of undisguised disdain; such weapons felt so uncivilised! Ryden though, had insisted on him not bringing along his Olympus, claiming that such an unwieldy weapon would only prove to be a hindrance in close quarters. As such, Zeraion now strode alongside Ryden, totally unarmed and only holding a large, black rucksack. 

Ryden, on the other hand, had more firearms hidden beneath his trenchcoat than Zeraion could be bothered to count. Even as he discarded the empty submachine guns, he already had replacements ready, drawing two handguns from within his coat and cocking them.

The duo hadn't walked in further than a few steps when a storm of footfalls was heard from around the corner. A couple of seconds later Necropolis' security backup charged into the lobby, taking up defensive positions on the opposite end of the lobby. There was the sound of dozens of firearms cocking and rounds being chambered, and soon enough Ryden and Zeraion were in the sights of too many guns to count.

_"Freeze!" _The lead warrior, hefting a shotgun, shouted out to them.

Zeraion and Ryden glanced at each other for a split-second, and then they bolted in opposite directions, Zeraion dropping the bag as he ran.

In the next second, the entire room exploded into a hell-storm of bullets.

* * *

"Why isn't the serum working?" Dreznor wondered, pacing in front of the priestess and giving her an undisguised look of disgust. 

"Perhaps we're asking the wrong questions." Raveshaw suggested as Dreznor strode past him. The Voidwalker paused in his steps, an idea striking him. He was certain for sure that his method would work, but he could not let the others see what he had in store, otherwise he would be cast down from his position of Council Member faster than he could slay a snail.

"Leave me with her." He finally commanded. The other council members looked at him as though he had grown a second head, but Dreznor paid them no heed. "_Now._"

As the council members left the room, Dreznor strode in front of Ceil, and sat down in front of her.

"Can your hear me, Ceil? I'm going to be honest with you." He leaned in closer, very slowly, until he was almost nose-to-nose with her.

"I... _hate_... this place. This 'zoo', this 'prison', this 'reality', whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the _smell_... if there is such a thing. I feel... _saturated_ by it. I can... taste your stink of weakness, and every time I do, I fear that I have somehow been _infected_ by it, it's repulsive!" He tipped the priestess' head upwards until she was facing him directly, her glazed eyes however not focusing on anything in particular.

"Once the son of Dracon is dead, there will be no need for me to serve under Necropolis' guildmaster like some disgusting lapdog, I can simply overthrow him, do you understand!" He exclaimed, grabbing the priestess' head between his hands and locking his gaze with her unfocused one. "I need to find your son! I have to eliminate him to pave my way to the council! And in this mind is the key, my key. You are going to tell me where your son is. You are going to tell me, or you are going to _die._"

Ceil groaned, disoriented, but she continued to resist the overwhelming compulsion to spill her secrets out to the Voidwalker. Dreznor had proved far stronger than she had expected; she didn't expect to be able to hold out for any longer than a few minutes.

Yet, even as she mentally begged for the sweet mercy of unconsciousness, she continued to cling on to hope; she had just managed to extend her senses out from beyond the room and past the wards for a split-second, and what she sensed lifted her spirits.

Her son was here. Dreznor didn't need to bother with all this interrogation; he would get what he wanted all right, but not in the way he wanted at all.

* * *

Ryden darted towards his left, firing the handguns as he ran. The guards who were covering the left side of the lobby in their field of fire opened up in earnest at the lone warrior, but Ryden easily evaded their shots as he blurred sideways, tapping into his Draconic Speed with a vengeance and dropping several guards even as he skitted to the left until he hit the wall. 

The guards immediately took advantage of Ryden's momentary lack of movement to unload a fresh volley of lead, but Ryden quickly ducked, avoiding a majority of the bullets. Those few bullets that did graze against him merely caused small scratches that Grendel's regeneration quickly healed. He continued firing his handguns through a hail storm of bullets, aiming easily through the cloud of dust that the firefight had kicked up with his Draconic Vision, and killing guards without pause until the hammer of the handgun in his right hand locked open, signalling an empty magazine.

One shot later, the hammer of the handgun in his left hand locked open as well.

He was out of ammo.

No matter though - Ryden simply rolled behind a nearby pillar as the guards sought to track him, Assault Rifles and Shotguns spitting lead at him from a distance. Tossing away the two empty weapons, he withdrew another pair of machine pistols from within his coat, and waited for the assault to pause.

On the other side of the lobby, Zeraion was an indistinct shape that darted about the guards' fields of vision as they tried to shoot him down. Running at full speed towards the guards, the archer sensed the bullets heading his way and, with an agility he never knew he possessed, he jumped towards the wall on his right and started to run along it in a gravity-defying display of acrobatics, kicking off after several steps and dodging safely out of the bullets' paths.

He landed deftly behind a pillar, and the guards foolhardily continued to pummel the pillar with bullets in vain hopes of penetrating and nailing the bowman behind it. The foremost guard, a large warrior wielding a shotgun, pulled the trigger and realised with a dismayed _click_! that he was out of shells. He reached down towards his belt for the reloads, and Zeraion took advantage of that brief moment of vulnerability.

With a cry, the bowman burst from behind his pillar and kicked the warrior twice across the face to knock him unconscious, but not before kicking the shotgun out of his hands. The remaining guards tried to fire upon him as the warrior fell, but Zeraion had vanished behind his pillar as abruptly as he had appeared.

Back on Ryden's side, the young warrior was very rapidly losing his patience. The rain of bullets had not abated so far, and Ryden was on the verge of charging out of cover and into a storm of lead simply out of impatience.

Finally, after several seconds, the bullets stopped flying for just a split-second; the guards were reloading.

But a split-second was all Ryden needed. Roaring a battle-cry, he charged out from behind the pillar, raising the machine pistols and letting loose a rain of lead of his own. The world around him slowed down to a crawl, and everything suddenly seemed to move in slow-motion. The only things he could hear was the thundering of his machine pistols, drowning out his own battle-cry, and the loud clanging of several dozen spent bullet casings falling onto the floor. Aiming and shooting his machine pistols with pinpoint accuracy, he stitched his lines of fire across the guards' heads almost effortlessly, gunning down a dozen guards with a single volley and cutting down those that emerged from cover almost instantaneously.

The guards on the right side of the lobby finally realised that their buddies on the left were having trouble, and they momentarily diverted their attention from the hidden bowman to the charging warrior, attempting to gun down the latter now instead of the former.

Zeraion took this as his cue to emerge from cover. Swiftly but silently running out from behind the pillar, he approached a bowman who was sending several dozen rounds at Ryden but paid absolutely no attention to the archer sneaking up from behind him.

With a lightning-fast kick, Zeraion knocked the Assault Rifle out of the bowman's hands, and the weapon sailed through the air to land right in Zeraion's grip. The guard had only a moment to realise that his weapon was gone before Zeraion shot him in the back, sending him sprawling across the floor. The guards finally realised that they were under attack, and they shifted their focus towards Zeraion.

The hunter quickly unloaded the rest of the magazine into the congregation of guards, mowing down several of them, and he dropped the empty weapon, retreating behind another nearby pillar as the guards opened fire.

Ryden charged through the hail storm of lead, running through it as though there weren't any bullets present at all. The guards continued to shoot at him in a vain attempt to gun him down, but Ryden didn't stop moving forward even as the bolts of his machine pistols suddenly locked open. He discarded the empty weapons and pitched himself into a forward cartwheel, grabbing a fallen guard's dropped Assault Rifle. A second cartwheel forward, and Ryden was firing the rifle one-handed at the guards he had came all the way next to,_ in the middle of the cartwheel._

None of his shots missed, and three guards fell to the floor, riddled with bullet holes. The two remaining guards opened fire at him, but he had already rolled behind a pillar, discarding the empty assault rifle. Reaching into his trenchcoat once again, he pulled out his last pair of machine pistols and cocked them.

One volley of fire later, he wheeled out from behind the pillar, letting fly with both guns. One of the guards immediately ducked behind cover as Ryden opened fire, but the other wasn't so lucky. He was stepping out just as the warrior pulled the triggers, and he was instantly mowed down by the hail of lead. Emptying the last of the magazines, he tossed away the depleted weapons and leapt into the air just as the last guard stepped out from behind his pillar. Ryden immediately lashed out with a vicious double-kick that sent the guard flying, and his weapon clattered to the floor with a satisfying _clang, _signifying the end of the battle.

The entire firefight had lasted only three minutes.

Ryden looked back as he heard footsteps, but it was only Zeraion. The hunter strode over to the black bag, which throughout the entire battle had somehow gone miraculously untouched.

Dropping his stolen assault rifle, Zeraion picked up the bag and entered the elevator with Ryden, leaving in their wake several dead bodies and a completely demolished lobby.

* * *

The door to the interrogation room suddenly opened, and Dreznor shot up from his seat, abruptly releasing his hold on the priestess' head. Sindri and Raveshaw stepped in, and the headhunter looked confusedly between the Voidwalker and the priestess. 

"What were you doing?" Raveshaw asked. Dreznor remained silent.

"He doesn't know." Sindri muttered to Raveshaw.

"Know what?" The Voidwalker finally asked, regaining his composure.

* * *

Inside the elevator, Zeraion set the bag on the floor, unzipping it and taking out what was being hidden inside it; a large bomb device loaded with C4. Ryden depressed the Emergency Stop button on the elevator's control panel, and the elevator abruptly halted. 

Zeraion continued to work on the bomb, inputting the commands for an on-impact fuse. As Zeraion was inputting the commands, Ryden reached up to the ceiling of the elevator and pulled open the emergency escape hatch. Zeraion removed the safeties on the 'Arm' button, and Ryden slipped through the hatch.

* * *

Sindri looked down at the priestess, finally realising why they had suddenly lost contact with the lobby guards. 

"I think they're trying to save her."

* * *

Ryden and Zeraion quickly secured their harnesses to the lift cables, and Ryden pulled out another handgun from the recesses of his trenchcoat. He aimed it at the link that connected the cable to the elevator, and fired once. 

The link gave way partially, and the elevator swayed unsteadily. The duo tightened their grips on their respective harnesses, and Ryden glanced upwards, towards the upper floors where his mother was being held hostage.

_Dreznor... I've got a present for ya._ He thought to himself before he fired the handgun again.

The link shattered from the force of the bullet, and the elevator plummeted downwards while the duo shot skyward, being pulled up by the counterweights, which shot down and past their sight after a few seconds.

There a loud _ping!_ from the lobby's elevator door before it vanished in a tremendous explosion. A humoungous plume of flame shot out from within the elevator, and the ensuing firestorm engulfed the entire lobby.

Upstairs, the lights in the room where Ceil was being held suddenly shorted out, and a moment later, the ceiling sprinklers were activated.

Utterly enraged at this indignity, Dreznor ordered Sindri to "Find them and _destroy them!_"

The Chaos Sorcerer tilted his head towards the ceiling, sensing a disturbance, and he already knew where the son of Dracon was.

* * *

"I repeat, we are under attack!" The pilot of the chopper shouted into his mike as he watched his comrades get massacred by the two mysterious assailants who somehow had managed to overpower an entire platoon of Necropolis troopers. 

Outside the chopper, Ryden repeatedly unleashed kicks at the pair of guards who he had held together in an arm-lock. The guard on the left immediately fell when Ryden delivered a crushing boot to his head, and the warrior snatched the assault rifle out of the remaining guard's hands, knocking the guard out with a hard upward smash to his chin with the butt of the rifle.

Spinning around, he aimed past Zeraion, who was currently disarming one of the guards of his Field Knife with several well-placed chops, and mowed down the Necropolis troopers who were rushing up to assist their comrades.

Inside the chopper, the pilot's body convulsed as a foreign presence invaded it, and suddenly Sindri materialised in the pilot's place.

Not noticing the presence of the Council Member inside the chopper, Ryden continued to gun down the Necopolis grunts, not noticing the guard he had knocked out earlier with a boot to the head was slowly getting up and hefting his shotgun at him.

Zeraion though, didn't fail to see that. Throwing the field knife with all his strength, he watched as the weapon embedded itself in the forehead of the guard, and his limp body toppled to the floor.

Ryden discarded the empty assault rifle onto the floor, and he was about to turn around when he saw Zeraion stare over his shoulder with a look of utter dread. Ryden knew what it was, though. He didn't even need to turn around to see what it was; he recognised the scent of a Necropolis Council Member through his sense of Draconic Smell.

In a flash, he drew two handguns from within his trenchcoat, and proceeded to unload both clips into the waiting Chaos Sorcerer.

A cocky grin, and the sorcerer's upper body suddenly became an indistinct blur that quickly seperated into several indistict blurs that shot around in dodging movements, and all the while his lower body didn't budge an inch.

Frustrated, Ryden continued firing, determined to gun down the headhunter, but Sindri continued to dodge the bullets in a seemingly effortless manner.

Suddenly, two dull clicks sounded from Ryden's handguns; he was out of ammo.

Sindri, however, didn't have that problem at all. His upper body finally stopped moving, and he drew his own weapon, an ebony staff that was surrounded by a black aura.

"Zeraion..." Ryden shouted out as Sindri pointed the staff at him, and he dropped both his handguns. "Help!"

Sindri unleashed several bolts of dark energy in rapid succession.

Once again, the world around Ryden slowed down to a crawl. Sinking into his Draconic Speed like never before, instinct moved his arms and body of its own accord, and he automatically dodged out of the way of the energy bolts that were being sent his way at supposedly supersonic speeds, though to Ryden it seemed as though they were travelling at half-normal speed. The bolts whizzed past his limbs just as he pulled them out of the way, and then Sindri somehow managed to get the brains to aim at Ryden's chest. So, Ryden proceeded to bend backwards in response to the bolts.

By the time Sindri had finished casting, Ryden was already bent backwards 90-degrees at the knees in an extreme acrobatic dodging maneuvre. The world suddenly returned to normal speed, and Sindri released two last bursts of energy in a last-ditch Magic Claw. The attack grazed across Ryden's left shoulder and right thigh, and the warrior lost his balance, tumbling to the ground.

Panting and gasping for breath, he glanced upwards as Sindri stood over him, his staff pointed threateningly at Ryden.

"Only human." The sorcerer muttered, raising his weapon in preparation for the final blow. He was about to cast the spell when the barrel of a handgun was suddenly pressed against his temple.

Glancing to his right, he belatedly realised that in his pursuit of Ryden, he had forgotten all about Zeraion.

"Dodge this." Was all the young archer said before he pulled the trigger.

Sindri's body flew backwards as the round exited through the other side of his head, and it was enveloped by a bright flash of light before it was replaced by the chopper pilot's corpse.

Groaning, Ryden attempted to get to his feet as Zeraion offered a hand to help him up. Ryden gratefully accepted it, and was pulled roughly to his feet.

"How did you do that?" Zeraion asked as Ryden discarded his trenchcoat, revealing the black armor underneath.

"Do what?"

"You moved like that sorcerer did. I've never seen anyone move that fast."

Ryden glanced at his wounds, which already in the process of healing, and then at the corpse of the pilot. "It wasn't fast enough." The warrior then glanced at the chopper, a plan formulating in his head. "Can you fly that thing?"

Zeraion glanced at the chopper for a moment, and then replied, "Not yet."

He snapped out his PDA and dialled in the number for the GMs' armory.

* * *

Ascion picked up the call to the armory the moment the headset started beeping. "Operator." 

"Ascion, I need a pilot program for a B2-12 helicopter." Zeraion's voice came over the headset. "Hurry."

Ascion didn't waste any time. His fingers flying over the keyboard, he quickly input the commands into the rezzing program, and the moment the program was ready, he sent the attachment to Zeraion's PDA.

* * *

Zeraion's eyes fluttered opened and closed for several moments as he assimilated the information very much in the same manner Ryden had learned his Kung Fu, and they finally snapped open after a few seconds. 

He glanced towards Ryden, then at the helicopter. "Let's go."

The two strode onto the helipad and into the chopper, Ryden loading in his last clip into his final handgun and cocking it.

* * *

Sindri stepped back inside the room; he had failed in stopping the son of Dracon from occupying the roof, and now only the Balrogs kew what he had in store for them; there was an unoccupied chopper on the rooftop! 

A sudden racket issuing from outside the windows caught their attention, and they looked outside.

A helicopter descended into their view, and they saw Ryden at the side of it, aiming the helicopter's massive mounted chaingun at them.

Dreznor stared at the chopper, and uttered a single word.

"_No._"

Ryden slammed his finger down on the chaingun's trigger, and Dreznor raised his claw in response.

Raveshaw and Sindri fled from the room, several Dreadlords charging in in their place. Dozens of shurikens were sent flying at the lone warrior who was letting loose a hell storm of lead into the room, but most of them pinged harmlessly off the inside of the chopper as they flew past Ryden.

Stitching his fire across the room, he mercilessly mowed down the Dreadlords who had chosen to die alongside their lord, methodically slaughtering them one by one, and in the process completely demolishing the windows. After several seconds, the only people left alive in the room were Ceil and Dreznor. His features contorted into a mask of rage, Dreznor continued to fling shurikens at the chopper, and he didn't pause even as the rounds from the chaingun nearly cut off his left arm.

He didn't scream as the bullets penetrated his armor, but he finally realised that this was a fight he could not win. Staggering out of the room, he flung a final pair of shurikens at the chopper in a Lucky Seven attack before retreating.

The barrel of the chaingun stopped spinning, and Ryden was able to get a clear look inside the room. His mother sat handcuffed to a chair in the center of it, and as he watched, she slowly lifted her head up, blinking her eyes slowly to clear her system of the effects of the serum. The cold water from the sprinklers helped a lot, and she suddenly felt her mind clear.

Focusing her energy, she let out a shout of effort as she tore the handcuffs apart, using magical energy alone to enhance her strength. She ripped off the sensors attached to her head and neck, and was about to dash for the chopper when the door to the room swung open again.

Dreznor, apparently recovered from his wounds, immediately summoned a Shadow Partner and flung several shurikens at Ceil at once.

Now running even faster, the priestess moved her legs as fast as she could will them to, dashing towards the chopper at maximum speed. A stray star tore past her right calf, gouging out a chunk of flesh, and she cried out in pain, stumbling as she ran.

_She's not gonna make it on her own!_ Ryden realised, and without hesitation, he leapt for his mother, who had jumped from the building at the same time. The two slammed into each other in mid-air, and they plummeted downwards until the cable connecting Ryden's harness to the chopper snapped taut. Ceil nearly lost her grip, and she was kept from plummeting to the ground several dozen stories below only by Ryden's death-grip on her robe sleeve.

"Gotcha!" The young warrior proclaimed, and he glanced up to the cockpit, where Zeraion was piloting. The archer immediately pitched the joystick forward to get the chopper to move, but Dreznor was too fast for them. Even as the chopper was yards away from the demolished windows, Dreznor sent a pair of shurikens flying with such accuracy that two adjacent holes were made in the helicopter's fuel tank.

Cursing, Zeraion attempted to regain control of the chopper as it threatened to gyrate out of control. Alarms and warning lights started blaring and blinking, and the young bowman wrenched the joystick to the side as he spotted a nearby building which seemed to have a rooftop high enough for them to land safely on. Jamming the joystick to the right, he dashed out of the cockpit and rappelled down his own cable, coming down next to Ryden. The moment they passed over the rooftop, Zeraion pulled out a small dagger and severed both cables with a deft flick of his wrist.

The helicopter passed over their heads, billowing smoke from its leaking fuel tank, and the three landed and rolled on the rooftop as they watched the chopper crash against the side of another nearby building, exploding in a gigantic fireball. They shielded their eyes against the flash of light, and waited until the ringing in their ears had subsided before they got to their feet.

* * *

"Operator?" Ascion said as he picked up the call. His mouth spread into a wide grin as he heard who was on the other side of the line, and he quickly patched the call in to Grendel.

The elder magician put on a headset of his own. "Goddamn, it's good to hear your voice, Ceil. I guess your son isn't so unskilled after all."

"_We need an exit, Grendel._"

"Got one ready." Ascion piped up from his station. "Subway station: State and Balboa."

* * *

The Council Members burst through the doorway to the rooftop, intending to catch the escapees while they still could, but all that greeted them were two discarded sets of harnesses. Dreznor reached down and picked up one of the harnesses, squeezing and twisting it in his grip.

"Damn it!" He cursed under his breath, his grip tightening.

"The search is complete." Raveshaw said after a moment.

"We have their position." Sindri stated.

"The seeker teams are standing by." They then both looked at Dreznor, who was still staring at the harness in his hands. "Order the strike."

Dreznor finally looked up, and his eyes blazed with certainty of vengeance.

"They're not out yet."

* * *

A/N: Ok, I'm really out of stamina here. I really want to continue and I already have the whole part of it all lined out, but I just can't type any further. Besides, I'm sure you all want an update after two weeks of waiting. To Kasumi7112, the updates are really slow because schoolwork is really bogging the Master and I down. I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, though. Damned graduation exams, remedial lessons in school and tuitions have been wasting so much time...


	11. The Lance of Longinus

Disclaimer: Nothing owned... can I go to sleep now...?

* * *

A/N: To The Sleepy Bananazzzz, welcome to Master and Chief and Arbiter Inc. We specialise in rip-offs. And on how Kal Ancalas owns us, it wasn't really a competition between Kal Ancalas Productions and MCA Inc., more like a joint effort to boost the popularity of the MapleStory section. Besides, Kal and the Chief are the best of online pals, so it doesn't really matter who owns who, cos they're both in it together. 

A/N 2: If any of you see a story titled _The League of Extraordinary MS Gentlemen_ written by _The Wizard that got bored_, please refrain from mindless flaming. That's my younger cousin writing that story, and mind you, he's three years younger than me. He has much yet to learn, so I'd appreciate it if you instead help him by supplying constructive criticism where he needs it. Kal, I'd appreciate it if you'd review his story as well. Thanks.

* * *

Chapter 11: The Lance of Longinus 

The subway station hadn't been in use for over several dozen years. Only the occasional adventurer bothered to visit the deserted locale, seeking to either complete a jump quest or to hunt down the numerous monsters that infested the tunnels. Over the years the workers had gotten used to the sheer desolateness of the place, and they never expected anything exciting to happen in the tunnels.

Which is why Bob the Subway Worker nearly died of shock when the service phone several meters away from his napping spot suddenly sprang to life, screaming out its accursed ring with a vengeance.

His heart beating furiously, Bob tried to calm himself down by taking several deep breaths. What in blazes could possibly cause the phones here, which hadn't even been touched in several dozen years, to suddenly start acting up?

The answer came a few seconds later. From his discreet little vantage point in the corner of the tunnel, he saw three adventurers barge into the tunnel. The first among them was a black-clad warrior, the second being a woman dressed in white priestess robes, and the last was an archer who was clad in a similar manner to his warrior compatriot.

Ryden didn't take any notice of the subway worker, he was just too focused on getting his mother out of here. Necropolis was very likely hot on their heels, and they had to evacuate back to the Wise Men's Safe House as soon as possible. The ringing phone was their only way out of the hornet's nest.

"You first, mom." Ryden picked the phone off the hook and handed it to her. Ceil accepted it and pressed the receiver to her ear. A moment later a thin silver film emerged from the earpiece, enveloped her and seemed to draw her into the handset, tendrils of silvery substance seeping into the phone...

And all of a sudden she was gone. The phone, now without anybody to hold on to it, plummeted to the floor and snapped its cord taut. In the corner of the tunnel, Bob recoiled in fear at the supernatural occurance, and he huddled in closer towards the tunnel wall, hoping they wouldn't notice him.

* * *

A few miles away, on a distant rooftop, a lone Voidwalker turned in the direction of what he sensed to be a disturbance. Yes, that was most definitely where his quarry had escaped to...

* * *

Confident that his mother was now safe, Ryden picked up the fallen handset and placed it back on the receiver. A few moments later it began ringing again, and Zeraion stepped forward. 

In the corner of the tunnel, Bob's body started to convulse involuntarily as a foreign presence invaded it... and Dreznor materialised in his place much like how Sindri possessed the chopper pilot. Getting up from his prone position, he stepped out of the shadows and leveled his claw at Zeraion.

"There isn't anybody else in the world who would've done what you did, Ryden. And I'm glad you did." The archer then picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Zer." Ryden said with a grin as Zeraion disappeared.

Suddenly, the upper half of the handset exploded in a shower of sparks even as it hovered in mid-air. A steely streaked through the space that Zeraion's head had been a moment ago, and the ruined remains of the handset tumbled to the ground.

Ryden glanced to his left, and saw Dreznor approaching him, the Voidwalker's eyes blazing from within with green demonic fire.

"Ryden... it's been a while since we saw each other face-to-face, hasn't it?" The Voidwalker sneered.

Ryden briefly considered the option of running away, but even as he glanced at the stairs leading to the subway exit out of the corner of his eye, he knew that was out of the quesiton. Dreznor would have him before he would even manage two paces. Turning back to the Voidwalker, he took a step back, but only to set himself for the fight.

Dreznor stopped several meteres away from Ryden, staring down at the lone warrior who stared back. Deep inside, Ryden knew there was no way he could defeat a Necropolis Council Member on his own; he was outmatched by Dreznor in practically every aspect now that he did not have Alastor with him. Still, the only way was to stand and fight, his honour would stand for no less.

Dreznor's left hand slowly clenched itself into a fist, his muscles taut and ready to spring. A stray piece of newspaper, blown by the winds that echoed throughout the subway's tunnels, floated between them. Ryden's own right hand tensed. He slowly spread his palm out, stretching his fingers and flexing them...

And all of a sudden his last pistol was clenched in his fist, aimed at Dreznor and firing off several rounds. Dreznor immediately drew his own Handgun, one that Sindri had given him, and fired off rounds of his own.

Ryden skitted sideways as Dreznor continued to fire at him, blasting away with his pistol at the same time. Dreznor mirrored his movements, strafing towards his right and kick-jumping off a nearby pillar towards Ryden, who did exactly the same.

The two collided in mid-air, their arms locking together as they each attempted to push the other's weapon away while trying to get off a headshot with their own weapon. Most of their shots were only centimetres away from their mark, but not a single one managed to land on either combatant.

The two spiralled in mid-air for a full second, firing their weapons, before they landed on the ground on their sides in front of each other, their weapons levelled at the other's head and pressed against their temples.

"You're empty." Dreznor stated confidently as he felt that hammer of Ryden's pistol was locked back. Surely the warrior's life was his to claim now. All it took was a twitch of his finger to blow a hole in his fool head...

"So are you." Ryden retorted with a smirk.

Dreznor's gaze flickered towards the locked-back hammer of his own handgun, then back to the insufferable smirk on his adversary's face. Oh, how he would enjoy wiping that smirk off with his bare hands...

Both of them leapt backwards, landing on their feet as they spun away from each other. Their gazes locked the moment their feet touched the ground, and Dreznor momentarily glanced at the empty weapon in his hands.

Looking back at Ryden, he tossed it to the side. Ryden, knowing that his empty pistol wouldn't be of much help either, tossed it aside as well.

Dreznor tilted his head towards the right, menacingly cracking the joints in his neck.

With a cry, Ryden charged forward, unleashing a rapid-fire stream of punches and kicks. Dreznor easily blocked a majority of the blows, and whatever few managed to penetrate his defenses barely fazed him. Parrying aside Ryden's punches, he immediately retaliated with several punishing blows of his own, sending the warrior reeling backwards as a brutal kick nearly cracked his chest bone.

Backing up against a nearby pillar, Ryden dodged to the side just as Dreznor's fist slammed into the pillar, the Voidwalker's attack shattering the concrete instead of Ryden's head. Ryden ducked beneath the second punch, one that shattered another fistful of concrete, and he suddenly lashed out with his left leg in a kick that caught Dreznor off-guard. The Voidwalker stumbled back two steps, but Ryden didn't pause in his assault as he continued to pummel Dreznor with three consecutive kicks. The first two caught him in the stomach, stunning him further, and the final one landed on his nose, disorienting him.

Spinning around, Ryden delivered the _coup de grace_ as his foot slammed into Dreznor's face in a vicious reverse-roundhouse kick. The Voidwalker was sent reeling backwards from the sheer force of the blow, until he slammed into another nearby pillar, his baleful gaze fixated on Ryden. There was a nasty gash right under his left eye where Ryden's boot had caused some real damage, but Dreznor didn't seem to register the pain much. Planting his foot solidly onto the ground, Ryden prepared himself for the next round.

With a sigh, Dreznor waved a hand over the wound, and it disappeared as his palm passed over it, the blood vanishing into thin air.

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die, son of Dracon." The Voidwalker muttered before lunging forward.

It was all Ryden could do not to succumb to the assault. The first punch nearly dislocated his forearm at the elbow, and the consecutive blows crashed through his defense like meteors. Desperate to counterattack, he swung his leg upwards in a roundhouse to drive Dreznor backwards, but the Voidwalker parried his blow before he had even raised his leg more than a few feet and, attacking the same leg, gave Ryden a sweeping kick of such force that the warrior was knocked off his feet, spinning clockwise until Dreznor halted his momentum with a crushing punch to the chest which sent him flying backwards into the wall.

Ryden crashed against the wall, shattering the concrete where he landed, and he let out a cry of pain as his back nearly broke. Dropping to the floor on his side, he immediately rolled around to face Dreznor, who was already coming at him to deliver more punishment.

Flipping around until he was upright on his left arm, he unleashed a quick double-kick that caught Dreznor in the mid-section, forcing him back a couple of steps. Getting back onto his feet, Ryden threw a punch at Dreznor's face, but the Voidwalker easily caught the blow, holding his arm in place. Wrenching his arm out of the hold, Ryden parried aside Dreznor's arm and repeatedly hit the Voidwalker's chest with several punches before finishing off with a hook to the face. Dreznor was only stun-locked by the blows, each not causing him any real harm, and he easily recovered, catching Ryden's next punch in an arm lock, pinning the warrior's right arm to his side.

Ryden immediately lashed out with his left arm, and Dreznor caught that arm in a hold as well. With the warrior pinned, Dreznor took advantage of this turn of events and headbutted Ryden twice. The fighter, knocked silly by the blows, tried to buy some time to recover by jamming his knee into Dreznor's chest, but Dreznor easily countered that by abruptly releasing his hold on Ryden's arms.

He immediately threw a punch that sent Ryden stumbling back several steps as the warrior attempted to recover from the hold, and he strode forward before delivering another punch hard enough to pulverise a cranium, one that Ryden was barely able to dodge. The warrior tried to counter with a jab of his own, but Dreznor caught his arm in a hold and proceeded to pummel his side with several blows.

Gasping in pain, Ryden desperately swung his leg up in a kick hard enough to loosen the Voidwalker's grip, and he wrenched his arm out of the hold, attempting to catch his breath. Dreznor immediately charged at him, swinging his entire arm in a sweeping blow towards Ryden's neck. Ryden barely managed to catch the attack in a counter hold, and then he kicked Dreznor's arm for good measure before shoving it aside, assaulting Dreznor's midsection with several chops and finishing off with a solid side kick that had the Voidwalker stumbling back several steps.

Pressing the attack, Ryden threw a hook at Dreznor's face, but the Voidwalker's arm quickly came up to block. Parrying aside his arm, Ryden tried another flurry of punches, but before he could even get started Dreznor was already attacking. Suddenly forced on the defensive, Ryden tried to block the incoming punches, but he was already exhausted from the extensive fighting, and Dreznor's blows easily penetrated his defenses. One punch was all it took to shatter his weakened guard, and Dreznor delivered the final blow that sent the son of Dracon flying backwards several feet.

The warrior suffered a hard landing against the unforgiving subway floor, and he skidded for several feet before sliding to a stop, curled up in pain. Choking, he coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood as the pain momentarily overloaded his senses. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he quickly banished the pain from his awareness. Glancing up at Dreznor, who was stepping towards him, Ryden groaned and pushed himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth and willing his battered body to continue fighting.

Locking his gaze with the Voidwalker's, the son of Dracon struck a stance so solidly that dust was literally shaken loose from his bruised frame, and he slowly raised his right hand towards Dreznor.

Bending his foremost fingers inwards, he beckoned for Dreznor to attack. The Voidwalker took the taunt personally, and he descended upon the warrior with his full fury.

But with surprising ease, Ryden turned aside his blows. The fighter looped his right arm around Dreznor's as the Voidwalker attemped to punch him, locking it in a hold, and he swung his left fist at Dreznor's face with such force that again, dust was literally shaken loose. The Voidwalker was caught utterly by surprise at the warrior's sudden burst of strength. Dreznor tried to attack with his other arm, but Ryden easily locked that too in a counter hold, and he proceeded to headbutt Dreznor twice, much like how Dreznor had headbutted him mere seconds ago.

Tightening his vice-like grip on Dreznor's arms, Ryden finally gave the Voidwalker one last knee to the stomach before abruptly releasing his hold and lashing out with a lightning-fast uppercut. Dreznor, who was simply unprepared for such a savage level of resistance, could only wach as Ryden continously drove him back with repeated punishing blows that sent him stumbling backwards, off balance. Even as he reeled backwards from the uppercut, Ryden was already executing his next attack, leaping into the air and unleashing five kicks consecutively while in mid-air, causing Dreznor to stumble back several steps. As Ryden landed on his feet he immdiately punched at Dreznor's throat, but the Voidwalker managed to catch the blow at the last moment.

And with his fingers within centimetres of Dreznor's neck, Ryden jabbed out with his fingertips, choking the Voidwalker as his fingers suddenly impacted against his throat. Drenzor reflexively released his hold on Ryden's wrist, and Ryden threw a vicious left hook at Dreznor's face the moment his hand was released, stunning the Voidwalker further. He jabbed at Dreznor's neck again, followed by a side kick on the same area.

He swung his left leg in a roundhouse kick, again aimed at Dreznor's neck, but the Voidwalker, apparently recovered from the sheer ferocity of Ryden's assault, easily caught his leg in a hold. Ryden punched Dreznor in the face twice to attempt to force the Voidwalker to relinquish his grip, but Dreznor held fast. He parried the fighter's third punch and, picking him up by both sides of his hips, _threw_ the fighter to the side.

Ryden again crashed against the wall with such force that he shattered conrete, and he landed on his feet, staggering. As he attempted to recover, Dreznor strode forward and, pinning the warrior to the wall with a firm boot to his chest, proceeded to batter his body over and over again with punches at such a rapid pace that it seemed as though he was punching Ryden with several arms at once.

The fighter crumbled under such a brutal assault, and by the time Dreznor was finished, there was not a place on Ryden's body that was not battered black and blue. Gasping as Dreznor pulled him aside, Ryden was helpless as he staggered on his feet for a split-second before the Voidwalker punched him in the chest with such force that he was sent flying backwards, crashing into the phone stand and utterly demolishing it.

Dreznor took a moment to breath, basking in the glory of his triumph over the son of Dracon. Then, a sound that he heard out of the corner of his ear caught his attention.

The train was about to pass by.

A sinister idea then began to form in his mind. Yes, that would be an apt way to end the life of the son of Dracon...

Grabbing the groaning warrior by the ankle, he dragged Ryden towards the railway tracks until they were right beside them. Moaning in pain, Ryden feebly attempted to resist Dreznor's efforts, but the Voidwalker easily brushed aside his attempts, and grabbed Ryden by the front of his armour.

With a heave, Dreznor hoisted the fighter into the air, and hurled him against the tunnel wall. Ryden slammed into the concrete surface with the force of a miniature meteor, and the concrete was shattered totally where he landed. Dropping like a rock, Ryden collapsed right on top of the railway tracks, weakened and helpless. He struggled to get up, but moments later Dreznor had him held down with a Shadow Web.

Immobile and unable to escape, Ryden could only writhe as he struggled to break free, but the Shadow Web held fast.

"You hear that, son of Dracon?" Dreznor crowed, exuberant at his victory. "That is the sound of inevitability."

With another heave, Ryden attempted to rise, gritting his teeth, and the Shadow Web gave slightly. Fortunately, Dreznor didn't notice, and the Voidwalker continued to gloat over his fallen enemy.

"It is the sound of your death," The Voidwalker continued as the train sped closer and closer. "Goodbye, son of Dracon."

"My name..." Ryden murmured, as he grabbed onto the edges of the Shadow Web. "Is _Havoc_!"

With a mighty heave, the Shadow Web abruptly broke free, and Ryden immediately had its shadowy substance wrapped around his wrist. With supernatural speed, he backflipped away from the train tracks while tugging at the web with all his might. Dreznor, utterly shocked at this sudden reversal of roles, could only watch in horror as Ryden landed safely on the boarding platform, millimetres away from the train, while he was thrust into the path of the train, and about to be run over within seconds.

This was absolutely not the kind of defeat he had planned for.

But he still had a couple of tricks up his sleeve; one that wouldn't work twice. Immediately releasing his Shadow Web, Dreznor twisted in mid-air...

And disappeared in a flurry of bats a split-second before the train ran through the spot where he had been.

Ryden staggered backwards as the train sped past, the subway tram disappearing from his sight a few seconds later. There was no way that Dreznor could have possible survived that...

_Inevitability indeed. I hope you're finally back in hell where you belong, Dreznor. _Ryden thought to himself before turning on his heel and jogging towards the exit. Finally, some respite from battle...

Out of the blue, a steely whizzed past his ear, and he whirled around to behold Dreznor, the Voidwalker appearing to be largely unharmed by any impact whatsoever, and very pissed off.

Realising this was a fight he could not win, Ryden did the last sensible thing to do.

He turned and bolted for the exit, Dreznor hot on his heels.

* * *

**A/N: Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Kerning Subway…**

"This place is fucking big, what could the top brass want by digging here? Gold?" muttered Astella under her breath. After her brief meeting with Ryden, in the Perion Mountains, she was called to report to the Kerning Excavation Site to receive further instructions. Usually that meant she'd have to defend some vital installation or something like that. She never got orders more exciting than "Defend the damned reactor!" or what not. Likewise, this time the mission would be no exception. She'd probably spend another twelve hour shift trying to stay awake whilst waiting for the non-existent intruder to appear.

How wrong she'd be this time.

She'd reported to the small tent serving as the main admin processing station in the otherwise sprawling site. Most of the heavy digging machinery had been shifted to the lower levels where the excavation was underway, and the main level was somewhat quiet despite the army of Necropolis personnel supposedly in the immediate vicinity.

Descending through the main shaft elevator, she was proven totally wrong. Barely several yards below the ground's surface, the so-called "Excavation Frontier" was bustling with action. Men in heavy boots and safety helmets carrying jackhammers and pickaxes chiseled away at the granite whilst truckers brought loads of rubble to the dumping sites. It was perhaps a welcome change form the uninhabited Perion wilderness. Finally she was out of the chaos of nature and back into the peace and calm of civilization.

Again she was proven wrong.

There was a huge explosion as one of the main generators exploded in a spectacular display of fireworks. Whilst the miners wandered over to investigate, Astella pretty much knew what it was. She could sense a great entity nearby, and there were only two possibilities. The unlikely one: a council member. The more likely one: Smith.

As the dust cleared, there he was: a man with wavy dark hair and a pair of jet-black shades. He wore no armor, merely black robes and a white, sleeveless trench coat. However, he did have a silver armband with a diamond patch on it.

_Fuck. One of Smith's friends from the Addams' Family…_

Having never met Smith, or any Koaxia member for that matter, most of the Necropolis personnel stood there slightly stunned. The same stunned look remained on their faces when the Esparda extended his arm and magical chains emerged from the ground and pierced through their bodies. Over a hundred fell in a moment.

Despite this initial massacre, the man ignored the stragglers who were either dying or cowering in fear, and strolled casually into the main excavation tunnel. From within echoed more tortured screams and other unrecognizable, but equally gruesome, sounds. Figuring that this guy was less likely to murder her in cold blood than Smith, especially since he'd left those not in his path alive, Astella decided to tail him, and hopefully find a few answers for herself.

The Esparda was walking at a relatively fast pace. Whatever it was, he had something to do here. A mission he had to complete; an urgent one, for that matter. Thankfully, it wasn't very hard to follow a trail of mutilated bodies. It also wasn't very had to ask surviving, but traumatized members for directions. The Cleric found herself following a queer path down the tunnel, ever meandering, ever winding.

About twelve floors underground, the man entered what seemed to be an administrative office. By now it had been totally abandoned, desks and chairs were overturned and papers strewn about, a testament to how quickly its occupants had fled. Unfazed by the sheer messiness of the office, the Esparda approached a desk and shuffled through the drawers. After some searching, he removed a folder and studied it intently, before removing what appeared to be a map and discarding the rest on the floor and leaving through another door.

Assured that her target was a distance away, Astella sprinted over and retrieved the document. Just the title alone shocked her, "Lance of Longinus Excavation Project Progress Report." Flipping through, she learned that the council members were searching for an artifact of immense power called the Lance of Longinus. Apparently, their progress way ahead of schedule and, surprisingly, they'd found it, exactly on the day she'd been recalled to this place.

No wonder they summoned her. They needed every soldier they could to prevent the agents from halting their progress. Unfortunately, there was some bad news in the back of the report: some nearby outposts had been attacked by a lone Esparda. He had immense power and bore the insignia of Squad I, a squad that was no longer in service. The name of the Esparda was Longinus, Sky Asunder, former captain of Squad I, and leader of the Order of Koaxia.

_Aww, for fuck's sake…Addams' Family indeed. I nearly got killed by Pugsly, now to meet Mr. Addams himself…_

(A/N: For those who don't know, Pugsly is the young master of the Addams' family, Mr. Addams being the head of the household.)

Longinus had lengthened the distance as Astella read the report. However, to Astella's advantage, Longinus hadn't taken the only map. There was another one lying nearby. Glancing at it, Astella realized that there was a large antechamber several floors down, and there was a service staircase leading straight to it. However, this was in a special Necropolis code and Longinus had probably taken the long way around through the main lobby. Sprinting to the staircase, Astella just prayed that she'd arrive before the Esparda.

At the entrance to the antechamber, there gathered a large platoon of Necropolis members. They were setting up battle ramparts and were in the midst of sealing up the humongous doors to the antechamber.

"Hurry up and come over," the captain of the platoon called over, "You wouldn't wanna be caught outside when that madman comes a' knocking."

With all the Necropolis personnel inside the antechamber, the captain gave the final order and the fuses were set. Soon, rubble piled up in front of the door, effectively trapping them in, or keeping Longinus out. Tension amassed as the soldiers of Necropolis clutched their arms and anxiously awaited the arrival of their foe. Would the stone blockade be able to hold off the mighty Lord of Koaxia?

Then, there was a voice. It wasn't very booming, but they could all hear it, even though the source was from beyond the pile of rubble. "Arts of Destruction, Holy; Level Two: Finger of Purity."

With that a mighty force picked up the pile of rocks and flung it away like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. Longinus had penetrated their best line of defense.

A loud war cry emerged from behind the ramparts as the Necropolis personnel launched all sorts of attacks against the Esparda. However they either missed, or were deflected by some sort of invisible force filed in front of him.

"You never learn, do you?" Longinus called out, "Arts of Destruction, Holy; Level Three: Wrath of God."

A spatial distortion appeared from behind Longinus. Before it slowly materialized a gigantic meteor of shining energy. It gathered to an absurd proportion before picking up speed and slamming into the ramparts. The Necropolis members barely had a chance to scream. The shockwave which kicked up drowned out all cries of pain, shock or agony.

Thankfully, Astella had known better than to stand in the line of fire of an Order member. Smith had achieved the same gruesome result with a similar group of Necropolis members. Striding to the centre of the Antechamber, Longinus picked up the Lance which was displayed in a casing.

He gave a smirk, and then broke it in two.

"What the hell?!" Astella could not help but shout out loud from her hiding place. Longinus, however, did not seem surprised of her presence. He probably knew she had been tailing him from the start.

"It was a mere fake my dear, nothing more. I placed it here to trap those foolish enough to attempt inheriting our legacy. There can only be one group of legendary hackers in Bera and we do not intend to share the title," explained Longinus.

"So the council struggle after a…fake?" stammered Astella.

"Indeed. Anyone who attempts to wield this Lance will experience a backflow in mana," confirmed Longinus. Astella gulped. A backflow of mana meant that the destructive aspects of one's own magic power would be reversed back into him. The result would be permanent paralysis as best, and being reduced to atoms at worst.

"Very clever, indeed the work of the greatest who walked this land!" a strong voice came from the rear. Both Cleric and Esparda spun around to behold the Chaos Sorcerer Sindri.

"I take it you lead these morons," said Longinus.

"Correct. I am Sindri, council member of Necropolis. I find it a shame that such as you would selfishly hoard the secrets of a better tomorrow to yourselves," replied the wizened magician.

"A better tomorrow is one we tried but failed to create. Embarkation on our path would find you nothing but despair and death!" warned Longinus.

"There must be sacrifices for every battle, no?" queried Sindri.

"Some sacrifices are in vain. You will only come to realize it when you experience it," Longinus headed for the door. Suddenly, a strong bolt of dark energy was launched. Unfazed, Longinus simply tilted his head to the right slightly and sent it spinning harmlessly wide.

"Since we are here, why not we pit skills?" challenged Sindri, "I hear you are not only a hacker, but a great artificer. I have longed to test my own skills of artifice against yours."

(A/N: An artificer is one who utilizes mana to create weapons, artifice being the discipline.)

"You seek to challenge me? Very well," the Esparda took a stance but drew no weapon.

"I see. Very well, I accept the terms of your challenge," the Chaos Sorcerer discarded his wand. Muttering several incantations, a spear materialized in his hands instead, "Let us fight with the creations of our hands!"

Longinus nodded in approval. He extended his arm and a blood-red spear emerged.

With no hesitation he charged. Sindri raised his Lance and did likewise. Both combatants fought in a desperate melee, neither gaining any ground. Trying to gain the advantage, Longinus summoned his valor and gave a loud shout, "Gae Bulg!"

His spear started shining and suddenly, the spear-tip extended and darted towards Sindri's heart. The Chaos Sorceror leapt about nimbly, but the spear-tip kept chasing after him, shadowing his every move. With no choice left, Sindri grunted and slammed his own spear into the approaching spear-tip.

To Longinus' utter horror, his own spear started to shatter into pieces, until what was left was merely the handle.

"Gae Bulg, spear of Cuchulainn, the Irish Warrior-King. Very impressive," Sindri then cut short his praise and hurled his own Lance at Longinus. The Esparda easily dodged it, but no matter how he moved, the spear followed, locking-on to him. With no choice, he summoned his force field and deflected it.

"You forged the Gungnir?!" choked Longinus, at awe with such a formidable weapon, "Very well." Muttering several more incantations, Longinus summoned a new spear, this one a shiny golden.

Once again, both Lances clashed; the antechamber rang with the sound of steel meeting steel. However, this time, the outcome was much different. With his new Lance, Longinus easily smashed aside Sindri's weapon.

"Why?" a stunned Sindri stared at his now-ruined masterpiece, "The Gungnir impaled Odin to the Yggdrassil! It is coated in his divine blood! How could it be defeated?"

"Your strength is lesser than mine. As such you need to forge a stronger weapon than mine to be on par. My weapon, however, it equal to that of yours," explained Longinus.

"There is no such weapon! The Gungnir is the lord of all lances!" denied the Chaos Sorcerer.

"A single spear pierced the side of the son of man, his blood covered it and made it divine," Longinus gave a hint.

"No way," realization dawned on Sindri, "That's the Lance of Longinus! The Spear of Destiny! It too was coated with the divine blood of a god!"

"I draw my name from Gaius Cassius Longinus, the legionary who was stationed at the crucifixion of Christ. Of course you would expect I possessed such a weapon," mocked Longinus, "Now, the ball's in your court."

"You do know I was a Cleric once," started Sindri, "The Church tasked me with forging the greatest of Holy Weapons. I left before I submitted my final progress report, but by that time, I already completed it. Behold: Excalibur, Sword of Promised Victory!"

At his beckon, a might two-handed sword etched in gold and radiating in brilliance materialized. Astella, viewing from a safe distance, was thrown off her feet from the sheer aura of the blade.

"Very impressive," complemented Longinus. He extended his arm and called forth an otherwise simple-looking sword.

Smirking at his opponent's weakness, Sindri charged and raised the Excalibur high, intent on cleaving Longinus' skull in one fell swoop. However, Longinus merely lifted his own blade and easily parried the mighty Excalibur. Soon, Longinus was on the total offensive, easily countering Sindri's Excalibur and striking away with his own blade.

Defeated and breathless, Sindri crouched low, keeping himself straight only by his sword, "What on earth is that blade? How could it be superior to the Excalibur?"

"This is Merodach, the Original Sin. It was shattered once in combat, but from its shards two other legendary blades were born. One was the Balmung, the Blade of Siegfried which he drew from the trunk of the Yggdrassil. The other was your own Excalibur, drawn by Arthur Pendragon from the stone of kings. If you could ever believe that the imitation is better than the original, you are wrong," said Longinus.

"I see. So this whole battle was to show me that I will never reach your level?" gasped Sindri.

"Indeed," came the condescending reply.

"Before I die, I wish to know something. What is your Deathbringer's true form?" the dying Sorcerer pleaded desperately, "We've only pitted skills in artifice, what is your Deathbringer's true form?"

"Unlike Smith, I do not see the need to conceal my skills," Longinus snapped his fingers. Immediately, spatial distortions appeared around him. From the distortions appeared the hilts and handles of all kinds of weapons. Swords, spears, maces, axes, bows, every weapon that was created seemed to be represented.

"Impossible! How can one have so many Deathbringers?" Sindri questioned in disbelief.

"In order for the Espardas to be powerful enough, they needed stronger Deathbringers than the usual variety. Each member of Koaxia had a Deathbringer that was based on a real-life weapon of immense strength," elaborated Longinus, "Melchior, North Blitz. His twin daggers were modeled after Gan Jiang and Mo Xie, the falchions forged by and named after the legendary Chinese Blacksmith Gan Jiang. Balthasar, South Gale. His staff was created in the image of the Roman God Mercury's Caduceus. Descartes, East Abyss. His claws were based on the Sikh Sage, Guru Har Gobind's katars Miri and Piri. Casper, West Venom. His bow was a replica of Apollo's own bow. Smithosian, Earth Aflame. His sword is your very own Excalibur."

"And what of you? What about yours? No hero in history has so many weapons!" Sindri was still not convinced.

"There was once an ancient king of Samaria. He defeated a thousand heroes in battle, and claimed their fallen weapons as his own. Countless other valiant warriors swore their lives to him, and swore their swords as his. He kept these treasures in an ancient vault in his capital of Babylon. His name was Gilgamesh!" Longinus declared proudly.

"I see. Your weapon is not any one of the blades here. It's the entire vault," Sindri finally understood.

"Correct. Now, die," with a wave of his hand, all the weapons converged on the prone figure of the Chaos Sorcerer. After a wild spray of blood, Longinus willed his Deathbringer to retreat, and the mutilated body of Sindri collapsed to the ground.

Dusting himself, Longinus turned to face Astella.

"You would murder me in cold blood now?" asked Astella, already used to being on the verge of death.

"There is no need. My job is done," he paused for awhile, "You have strong eyes, a will of steel and a hunger for strength. Should this have been ten years past I would have invited you to be my disciple."

"Why not now?" blurted Astella. She'd taken quite enough shit from the Necropolis top brass and was eager to jump ship. She viewed this as a chance to jump from a ferry onto a battlecruiser.

"Lass, I can remove a hundred lives from this world with a wave. I can destroy entire cities with a fragment of this power. When joining forces with my comrades, we can tear the very fabric of this world apart. It is not a good thing," the Esparda lamented. For a moment there, Astella ceased view a mighty sage; instead he was replaced by a regretful old man.

Just then, a portal appeared, and Smithosian entered the antechamber.

"I see you didn't need my help," commented Smith, admiring the carnage.

"Not really," came the haughty reply.

"We should finish the rest off," suggested Smith, glaring at Astella.

"Leave some alive. We need the tale to get out. Let the world know that Koaxia's wrath crushed these impudent fools like the bugs they are," said Longinus.

"Although Adramelech desires more skulls to cleave, I find yours the wiser head. I shall do as you command," Smith gave in.

"Very well. My end of the bargain is completed. I'll leave the rest to you. Crush these insects," Longinus commanded.

"By your will," Smith and Longinus then re-opened portals, and in a brilliant flash of light, both were gone.

From her hiding place, Astella had seen everything. Now that the coast was clear, she got up from her position and made a wild dash for the exit, even though she was certain both Espardas were beyond the reach of her sensory spells' ranges. As she ran, she reflected on the day's happenings.

_So that means I'm strong enough to be the disciple of Longinus, Sky Asunder. Not only that, I had two run-ins with Koaxia and I survived both. Look out world, Astella's coming to get you.

* * *

_

A/N: The harrowing chase throughout Kerning City will come in in the next chapter. This is as far as I can type right now, as I'm DYING to play Command & Conquer 3: Tiberium Wars. Anyway, our mid-year exams are coming soon, so don't expect to see any new chapters in quite a number of weeks. Updates should resume at around May.


	12. He is The One

Disclaimer: Yes! Exams are over! Now I can resume writing stupid disclaimers!

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the EXTREMELY long wait, I apologize because I know some of you have probably pissed your pants waiting for this, but our exams are finally over! Updates are going to be more regular now, so don't give up on us! We need those reviews! 

A/N 2: I have come to realize that this story has been altered beyond repair that it doesn't even remotely resemble Maple Story anymore, so I'm going to try to make some changes from next chapter onwards. Of course, since you all love the one-on-one fight scenes so much, I won't remove that, but I have realized that the Matrix has had too much influence in this fic, so I'm going to cut down on it next chapter onwards. I do know that including guns in Maple Story and, if this were allowed to continue on, even tanks and fighter planes would have an adverse effect on the essence of the story, so from now on, guns, or even military-issue technology will appear very rarely, if at all. Repairs will commence once this chapter has finished.

* * *

Chapter 12: He is the One

There were only four of them at the safe house: Grendel, Ascion, Zeraion, and Ceil. The other three Wise Men were waiting for them back at HQ, but they couldn't leave this outpost until they had gotten Ryden out of there.

Ascion watched the screen carefully, observing the battle through the micro-cams embedded in Ryden's chest armor. Ceil, Zeraion and Grendel also watched from behind him. The fight hadn't been going well; Dreznor undoubtedly had the upper hand, and Zeraion winced as the implacable Voidwalker pummeled Ryden over and over again mercilessly. There was slight relief when they saw that Ryden had managed to overcome the Voidwalker, but that relief turned to horror when they saw Dreznor re-emerge from the nearby shadows.

The view from the cameras swung around as Ryden spun on his heel, and suddenly the screen turned black.

"What the-" Zeraion muttered. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I lost him," Ascion replied frantically, his hands practically flying over the keyboard, punching in commands as he sought to reacquire the lost warrior's tracking signal.

All of a sudden warning klaxons began blaring, and red alarm lights began to flash on the array of screens in front of the cleric.

Ascion took one look at the screen that displayed the view outside of the safe house in Kerning in which they were gathered, and his mouth dropped in horror at the warning that appeared on the screen.

"Oh, _shit._" Ascion cursed. The words "Proximity Warning" flashed across the screen in large red letters, and Ascion's movements began to grow even more frantic. Zeraion remained at his brother's side, while Ceil and Grendel bolted towards another door, marked "Master Control".

Ceil pushed the door open and held it for Grendel, who ran through with a speed that belied his age, and pulled open a trapdoor in the floor. They slid down the ladder that led to the basement, and scrambled for the holographic projector that would provide them with a clearer view of what was going on outside.

Grendel quickly seated himself in one of the chairs around the projector, and pressed the button marked "Display". A moment later an image began to form above the projector… and it showed a large group of soldiers, headed down the path for the entrance of their safe house. By the looks of the emblems on their armors, they were Necropolis personnel.

Ceil's eyes widened as she recognized a secondary emblem above the Necropolis emblem; it was the emblem of a black hand pointing upwards, gripping a globe in a tightened fist.

It was one of the branches of Necropolis' elite Black Hand special forces, the Seeker teams – specialists in search-and-destroy operations. They had a notorious reputation for being merciless, implacable killers, for once they locked on the trail of their prey, they never stopped chasing them until their prey or they themselves were dead.

They were definitely in hot soup now.

"Oh no… Seeker teams." Ceil glanced sideways at Grendel, who stared at the images with a grim expression on his face. "How long?"

"Five, maybe six minutes." Grendel stated. He picked up a nearby microphone and keyed it. "Ascion, charge the EMP. We have to prepare to disable this outpost and evacuate the moment Necropolis breaks through."

"We can't blow an EMP until we get my son out; he'll get stranded out there if we do!" Ceil cried out.

"I know, Ceil, don't worry." Grendel set a reassuring hand on the priestess' shoulder. "Your son's going to make it."

* * *

"A set of kumbis for 500 thousand? No way, man. That's daylight robbery! … Well, just…" The assassin who was conversing with his friend over his PDA didn't get to finish his sentence as a black-clad warrior suddenly darted by with surprising swiftness, snatching the PDA out of his hands. 

The assassin stared in shock at the empty space where his PDA used to be, and then turned to stare at the fleeing warrior.

"What the shit? THAT'S MY PDA!!!" The assassin roared. "That warrior stole my PDA!"

Passers-by looked curiously at the drama unfolding as the warrior continued to run while the assassin continued to shout after him. Ryden desperately input the number for the safe house and pressed the device to his ear just as the assassin suddenly began to convulse.

A few seconds later, the thief straightened up, and Dreznor spun around to face Ryden, who was still sprinting with the vigor of an Olympic runner.

* * *

"Got him!" Ascion cried out triumphantly as he received an incoming signal. "He's on the run." 

Ceil and Grendel immediately rushed out of the control room, clambering up the ladder and dashing towards Ascion's console just as Ryden's voice came over the headset, loud and panicky.

"Mr. Wizard…"

* * *

"… Get me the hell out of here!" Ryden nearly screamed into the stolen PDA. 

"_I've got a patch on an old exit: Wabash and Lake," _Was Ascion's response. Ryden continued to dash in a straight line, desperate for an escape route _in any direction_, until he came to an intersection.

With a quick, wild guess, he took the left turn, and nearly collided into a whole crowd of people.

_Oh, shit!_ Ryden cursed mentally. Somehow, he had managed to end up in the party quest area.

"JOINING PQ MUST HAVE TRACK AND AC!"

"LOOKING FOR PQ!"

"PQ, 2 SLOTS LEFT!"

Such were the numerous shouts that assaulted Ryden's ears, but he didn't even register them. His ears were too busy listening to his blood, which was pounding through them with a rapid, steady rhythm. He frantically glanced around the crowd, trying to find a way to wend through it, but the mass of human bodies was just too thick. If he attempted to take this route, Dreznor and his lackeys would catch up with him in no time.

His anxiety turned into fear the moment he sighted a familiar pale, fanged face at the edges of the crowd. A pair of hwabis streaked through the air, and Ryden quickly leaned to the right just in time. The stars shot past his neck with inches to spare, and he glanced back at where the stars had come from. Dreznor stared back at him with utter fury, and Ryden decided it would be best not to hang around for any longer.

Dreznor immediately gave chase, striding through the crowd effortlessly as he roughly shoved, and even threw people out of his way as he continued to search for the son of Dracon.

The crowd had begun to scream and disperse the moment the first stars had been launched, and suddenly Ryden found himself with a rapidly clearing path before him. He began to run, wending his way through the fleeing crowds as he dodged the stars that were being thrown by Dreznor, and he immediately veered to the left as one of Dreznor's Dreadlords suddenly appeared on the pathway in front of him.

The pair of steelies thrown by the Dreadlord missed his ear by centimeters, and pinged harmlessly off a nearby alley wall; the same alley that Ryden was dashing into now.

Sprinting as fast as he could, Ryden skidded to a halt as he came to a dead end. He spun around, pressing the PDA to his ear as he tried to see if Necropolis was catching up.

"Uh, help! Need a little help!" He exclaimed frantically as his pursuers finally came into sight.

"_The door!"_ Ryden spun around and noticed something he had missed out earlier; there was a door in the side of the alley, leading inside the building, but he had assumed it was locked.

Sprinting forward, he raised a leg and booted the door down, stars pinging off the wooden framework only inches from where he stood.

He charged through the open doorway and up the stairway that it led to, the Dreadlords hot on his heels. He ran up for several flights of stairs before sprinting out into a door-filled corridor a few floors up.

"The door on your left!" Ascion instructed Ryden. Ryden was about to comply when suddenly a Dreadlord appeared on the end of the corridor that he was facing. Instinctively moving to dodge the stars, he threw himself to the right instead, banging himself uselessly against a locked door. 

"_No, your other left!" _Ascion re-instructed him exasperatedly. Ryden corrected his mistake just in time; a second Dreadlord appeared on the other end of the corridor, and the duo were unleashing a flurry of stars that not even Ryden would have been able to dodge. Barreling through the door, he left the two Dreadlords to shoot at each other as he stumbled into an empty apartment. He darted deeper inside the apartment, coming into the kitchen.

"_The back door."_ Ascion told him. Ryden spotted the door just in time, booting it open and charging through it just as a steely streaked into the kitchen. The throwing knife embedded itself in the gas supply of the stove, and as Ryden charged out the back door and ran down the fire escape, hurtling onto the street three stories below, the Dreadlords followed in pursuit right before the entire apartment blew itself apart in a giant fireball.

Smoke and debris falling all around him, Ryden struggled to stay on his feet as the explosion nearly tossed him into the air. Picking up the pace, he sprinted out of the alley that he had landed in just as the Dreadlords landed on the ground behind him.

* * *

The warning klaxons suddenly began to blare with renewed fervor, and red warning lights began to flash on Ascion's console. 

"Oh no." Zeraion muttered as he saw the words 'Proximity Warning' switch to 'Red Alert'.

Grendel slowly looked up at them, and then glanced at the large, adamantium-reinforced door that, along with several corridors barred with the same kind of doors, separated them from the outside world.

"Here they come." He murmured to himself.

* * *

Outside the safe house, six heavily armed and armored Seeker team personnel assembled at the door. The two Fire Mages of the group immediately donned heatproof masks and gestured for the rest of the team to stand back. 

Pulling the masks down over their faces, they ignited a thin stream of white-hot fire in their palms, and began to use them like blowtorches, slow cutting their way through the large adamantium-reinforced doors.

* * *

Inside, Grendel reached down to the control box that housed the switch for the EMP, and pulled the glass casing back. The red switch stuck out like a sore thumb, and Grendel would hate to have to flip the switch if Ryden couldn't make it back on time. 

Once the EMP was triggered, all electronic systems within the blast radius would be disabled, including the transporter that had been used to teleport Zeraion and Ceil here. It would also completely obliterate whatever the pulse was not programmed to merely disable. Any foreign entities – in this case the Necropolis Seeker teams – would be utterly wiped from existence. If they blew an EMP now, the good news was that they wouldn't have to worry about the Seeker teams. The bad news was that if they blew an EMP, Ryden would be stranded in wherever he was in Kerning city.

The only exceptions to the effect of the EMP were the four of them themselves, and the transporter housed in the sub-basement, which was shielded from the EMP. They would use that to escape back to the Wise Men's headquarters when Necropolis broke through, but the question was whether it would be four, or five of them leaving this place alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ceil looking at him worriedly.

"He's going to make it." Grendel re-stated firmly.

* * *

The exit was somewhere in the Wabash and Lake hotel. Ryden redoubled his speed the moment he caught sight of the building, the Dreadlords hot on his heels, but something seemed amiss. 

For the past few minutes he had been persistently chased by the two Dreadlords, but the absence of something, or rather, some_one, _bothered him.

Just where the hell was Dreznor?

* * *

At the front of the hotel, Dreznor glanced up at the building that Ryden and his two subordinates had dashed to the side of. 

He remembered this place. During the First Guild War, in the time of Dracon's betrayal of his guild, Dreznor, whom at the time had been a member of that same guild, had been acting under orders of his guild superiors to hunt down and assassinate Dracon. Of course, they had sorely underestimated Dracon's power, and Dreznor, facing off with the legendary crusader in the same building that he stared up at now, had suffered a horrible defeat at Dracon's hands, as he had then lacked the power of the Dark Jobs.

Now, as the son of Dracon sought to escape into this building, Dreznor had the unshakeable feeling that history was about to repeat itself. For better or worse, Dreznor did not know, but all he knew was that this was a fitting place for it to end.

* * *

"_The fire escape at the end of the alley, Room 303!"_ Ascion informed Ryden. The fighter figured that was all he needed to know, and he tossed the PDA aside, running with renewed vigor. 

Shurikens streaked past him as he sprinted to the end of the alley and clambered up the fire escape, Dreznor's lackeys in pursuit. One of them stayed behind to throw shurikens at Ryden from below, while the other sought to follow him up the fire escape. The Dreadlord following him tried to aim up the stairs, firing through the metal steps in an attempt to hit Ryden.

Steelies and Ilbis and pinged off the metal framework of the fire escape as Ryden scrambled up the fire escape, frantically climbing up to the third floor. The moment he cleared the third flight of steps he threw himself forward, crashing through the door. He stumbled for two steps, then found his feet again and began to run.

The Dreadlord who had been pursuing him up the fire escape arrived moments later, leaping up from the second floor to the third floor without even taking the stairs, and gave chase to the fleeing warrior.

* * *

The Fire Mages stepped back the moment they finished cutting, extinguishing their fires and allowing the Crusaders and Bloodthirsters to work their strength on the plates the Fire Mages had split apart. 

The powerful warriors set their hands on the still-smoldering metal without even wincing, and straining their formidable muscles until they rippled with the strain, they _pulled_. The metal plates bent apart with a tremendous squeal of protest, but the warriors did not falter.

Seconds later, the plates had been peeled back, and the Fire Mages stepped through the hole, already preparing to work on the next door that barred their way to their prey inside.

* * *

Zeraion glanced at the metal doors the moment they all heard the horrible squealing of bending metal, and he looked worriedly at the monitor. 

The words 'Perimeter Breach' now displayed themselves across the screen.

"They're inside." Ascion muttered grimly.

Ceil looked at the door for only a moment, and then she turned her attention back to the screen.

"Hurry, Ryden." She murmured to herself.

* * *

The son of Dracon bolted down the corridor, glancing at and looking away from the numbers on the door. All of those that he had encountered so far were not the one he was looking for, and Necropolis was fast catching up. Damn it, just where the hell was Room 303? He could hear the phone ringing from inside one of the rooms, just waiting for him to answer it. 

_Room 300… room 301… 302… 303! Yes! _Ryden thought to himself as he finally sighted the number that would mark his salvation. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion with all that running, and every breath he took slashed at his lungs like a scalpel. Here at last was a chance for some rest and respite.

Pushing himself for the last leg of his journey, he threw himself at the door with every iota of strength he could muster, and barreled through it shoulder-first.

Only to be faced with the business end of a claw. Somehow, Dreznor had managed to get there before him, and now had the shooting end of his claw leveled straight at Ryden's chest at point blank range. Without wasting a moment, the Voidwalker pulled his claw's trigger.

There was a hollow bang as the steely shot out of the slit in the claw, and Ryden flinched as the steely impacted against him.

The silence that followed was so heavy that they both could've heard a pin drop. Inside the room, the phone that Ryden was supposed to answer rang faintly in the background.

Slowly, Ryden took two small steps backwards, and looked down at his chest. There was a small, bloody hole in his torso where his right hand had gone to in an attempt to stop the steely, but apparently he hadn't been fast enough. The steely had blown right through him, having exited from the other side of his body in a spray of blood. As he peeled his hand away from his chest, his fingers came away sticky with the red liquid. Small rivers of the sanguine fluid flowed down his chest, pouring from the wound, and yet he felt no pain.

The phone rang once more.

Ryden looked up at Dreznor, and the Voidwalker pulled the trigger again.

The agony assaulted him full on the moment the steely hit him. This time, the impact was strong enough to send Ryden staggering backwards. The fighter slammed into the corridor wall behind him with an audible thud, coating the wall with his blood. Struggling to stand, he forced his head to look up as he stared at Dreznor with utter hatred in his eyes.

Dreznor simply stepped forward and emptied the rest of his steelies into the son of Dracon. Ryden shook with each shot, his mouth open in a silent scream of pain. With a seventh, final shot, Dreznor stopped firing his claw into Ryden, watching the fighter warily.

His eyes closing, Ryden slid to the ground, leaving a trail of blood on the wall as he fell. As his body slumped to the floor, he succumbed to the abyss that was slowly consuming his senses, and he released a long breath of air, unable to take in another one.

That breath… had been his last one.

The phone rang faintly in the background – a death knell echoing the death of the son of Dracon.

* * *

Ceil could only watch in horror as the Dreadlord shot her son repeatedly. Her hands covered her mouth, and her body shook as she choked back sobs when she saw her son's limp body collapse to the floor. 

On the screen, the window that displayed Ryden's vital signs flashed red, and his vitals flat-lined.

Ascion and Zeraion were both staring at the screen wide-eyed, still not believing that their squad captain had just been so brutally murdered, and Grendel's mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

"It can't be!" He whispered, horror-struck.

The rest of them remained silent.

* * *

The two Dreadlords stepped forward to join their master as Dreznor stood over Ryden's body. 

"Check him." Dreznor ordered one of them. The Dreadlord bent down, pressing two fingers against Ryden's neck, and he withdrew a moment later.

"He's gone." The Dreadlord reported. With a last, cursory glance at Ryden's corpse, the two Dreadlords departed, leaving Dreznor as he continued to stare down at the body of his adversary.

"Goodbye, son of Dracon." Dreznor finally stated, and he turned to leave, the phone still ringing.

* * *

Ryden floated, solitary in the black abyss of death. He had no sensation whatsoever, so bleak was the vacuum that he experienced. And yet, as he sought to welcome the oblivion, another presence sought to pull him back. 

_Do not yet give up, son of Dracon… your time to die is not now… _A familiar, yet unknown voice spoke out to him from the abyss.

_**That voice… Smith?**_

_You speak of my favored subordinate… but no, I am not he._

_**Who are you?**_

_My identity is of no importance. I am here merely to fill in the gaps that he left behind in his wake._

_**The gaps… what are you talking about? Why are you here?**_

_You ask a redundant question. The world needs a savior, and you are that savior. If you were fated to die now before you can even carry out your duties, then why would the Oracle even bother prophesizing you as The One? You shall not die here or now, son of Dracon. I will see to that._

Before Ryden could respond to the voice that so reminded him of Smith, he felt the pull intensify. Oblivion began to fade away as sensation returned to his being. Exhaustion began to creep in once again into his limbs, but this time coupled with a rising feeling of strength. The exhaustion fell away, and he felt invigorated.

His eyes flickered open, and he blinked several times, unable to come to terms with what was happening. Was he really being resurrected from the dead?

The voice spoke once more inside his head. _Now, arise, son of Dracon. Defeat your enemies, and render upon them the judgment they rightly deserve!_

Getting to his feet and balancing on no-longer tired legs, Ryden took in a deep breath, and savored the feeling of air rushing back into his lungs.

At the end of the corridor, Dreznor turned around as he sensed movement from where he had left Ryden's body… and stared in shock as the supposed corpse of the son of Dracon now stood firmly on both feet.

With a wave of his hand, all three of them had their claws leveled at Ryden.

"No." Ryden unconsciously murmured to himself, and he turned to face them just as the first stars began to fly.

He raised his right hand, and his entire forearm was engulfed in orange, spectral flame. Curved talons grew out of his nails, and his flesh began to turn hard and scaled. The draconic forearm flexed and held out an open palm towards the incoming shurikens.

As though they had run into an invisible wall, the shurikens halted in mid-air, floating stationary as though they had been stopped in time. Unable to believe what they were seeing, Dreznor and his Dreadlords lowered their claws, staring at the fighter and his enflamed forearm in shock.

Ryden himself was surprised at what he had managed to accomplish. Slowly reaching out to the foremost hwabi, he plucked it from its stationary position in mid-air, and examined it for a moment… before he ground it to dust in between the talons of his new forearm.

Looking at the array of shurikens suspended before him, he cocked his head to the side, and the rest of the stars tumbled out of the air, clattering against the floor.

* * *

Zeraion stared at the screen in disbelief. There was just no way this could be happening! 

"… How?" Ascion finally choked out.

Grendel and Ceil didn't need to explain anything. Four words were simple enough to express it.

"He is The One."

* * *

Power unlike anything he ever felt before course through his body. His spectral forearm blazed with purifying flame as he surveyed his surroundings with eyes that did not feel like his own. His already-enhanced senses now seemed impossible acute; he literally feel, taste, smell, hear and see every minute detail of what was happening in this room. 

He smelt the fear and uncertainty radiating from the Dreadlords; it was so tangible he could almost taste its foul, bitter tang on his tongue. He saw Dreznor's pupils dilate in shock as the Voidwalker beheld his resurrected opponent, he felt their terror and disbelief as though it was his own, and he heard their miniscule gasps as they stepped backwards slightly.

Nothing escaped his senses… or were these senses his own in the first place?

He felt as though a foreign entity was possessing his body, not really taking control of it, but more like guiding it… _enhancing_ it.

_The Dragon Bringer has manifested… and with it, much of your dormant powers have as well. But, that is still not enough to help you overcome the obstacles you face now. You are young yet, son of Dracon. I will aid you in defending yourself, but the burden of defeating your enemies rests on your shoulders alone._ The voice spoke out to him once again. Ryden nodded in response, and he turned to face his opponents just as Dreznor charged forward, refusing to believe that he had failed to eliminate his adversary.

Under the guidance of the unknown entity that possessed him, Ryden brought up his left arm to ward off Dreznor's blow, and was pleasantly surprised when his guard stopped the Voidwalker's first punch as though Dreznor had punched into a brick wall. The Voidwalker was not dissuaded from this however, and he continued to attack relentlessly.

Ryden expected to be overwhelmed at any instant now, but the guidance of the entity not only kept him safe, but also somehow managed to turn Dreznor's efforts against him. The Voidwalker's attacks were effortlessly parried, even as Ryden turned to the side and began to defend with his left arm alone.

The presence of the foreign entity seemed to strengthen him; his strength seemed magnified hundredfold, and Dreznor seemed to be moving much more slowly all of a sudden; it was as though everything around him was moving in slow motion, allowing him to block Dreznor's blows with ease.

With an adder-quick twist of his wrist, he caught Dreznor's next punch in a wrist-lock, and wrenched it to the side. The Voidwalker cried out in pain, as his forearm was violently dislocated from the elbow, and he couldn't dodge out of the way as Ryden followed up with a brutal side kick hard enough to send Dreznor flying backwards several feet.

The Voidwalker landed unceremoniously on the floor, skidding backwards in a heap. Scrambling back onto his feet, he flinched as he saw Ryden bring his extended leg back in an arc, planting it behind him in an unmistakable charging posture.

Slowly, the son of Dracon began to step forward. Dreznor stepped backwards, preparing himself to fight, just as Ryden broke into a full-out run. The Voidwalker attempted to punch his incoming enemy, only to have Ryden dive straight at him, headfirst.

The fighter sailed right past the Voidwalker's attack, and he dove straight _into_ Dreznor; it was as though he had somehow entered Dreznor's body. Spinning around to face his subordinates, Dreznor stared at them with terror unlike anything they had seen from their superior before. His limbs convulsing, Dreznor stared down at his hands as they went rigid, small lumps of matter beginning to travel up from them, gathering on his forehead until they formed a significant bulge.

The bulge swelled as more lumps began to merge with it, and it receded just as a crack of pure white light formed in its place. The crack rapidly spider-webbed out, spreading all over the Voidwalker's body as Dreznor's features contorted in agony, fear, and rage, and with a soul-chilling scream, the Necropolis Council Member _shattered_ in a giant explosion of light.

The two Dreadlords cringed backwards and turned away, attempting to shield themselves from the blast as the bloody remains of their master hurtled past them, a still-screaming fragment of his face passing in between them. As the scream faded and the light died away, they lowered their arms and looked at where their master was standing.

In his place was the son of Dracon, now seeming more than ever like an invincible pillar of strength. The fighter curled up slightly inside of himself, flexing the muscles of his tucked-in arms, and in response, the very fabric of reality warped itself around him; the walls of the corridor seemed to bend, rippling as Ryden lifted his head, taking in a deep breath.

He looked back down, releasing the breath, and his eyes snapped open, boring straight into the two Dreadlords. The duo looked at each other for a moment, thought the better of it, and bolted for the elevator.

* * *

A sudden banging caught their attention; Ascion's head shot up as he looked at the sealed door, and his face fell. 

Necropolis was attempting to breach the final door. The huge, adamantium-reinforced plates were being dented inwards as powerful blows hammered against the external surface.

"Bloodthirsters… only warriors of that kind can be so strong…" Grendel muttered to himself. "Ryden must hurry. If he doesn't, we're done for."

"I think it's too late, Grendel." Zeraion replied. "Look."

The hunter pointed at the door, and just as they looked towards it, a massive hole was rent in it. A giant, hulking figure stood just beyond the door, it's features covered by shadow.

"A bloodthirster… get into the basement, Ceil! Zeraion, go with her!" Grendel ordered. With a flourish, he drew his staff, spinning it around and swinging it down in a wide arc, shouting out, "Chain Lightning!"

A bolt of electrical energy shot forth from his staff, slamming into the bloodthirster about to step through the doorway. The dark warrior howled in pain as electricity coursed through his body, and his blackened corpse toppled to the ground. The lightning bolts still dancing around his body chained towards his comrades who were waiting behind. More yells of agony followed as the spell injured them, but Grendel had more pressing concerns. He glanced at the teleporter where Ryden was supposed to have arrived, but the fighter still was not there. Just where the hell was that warrior?

The stampeding of feet caught his attention, and he turned back to the door to behold the rest of the Seeker team barging in. Darn it, he didn't have the time to finish them all off, even though he could have easily eliminated twice their number with similar ease.

"Ascion, trigger the EMP!" Grendel shouted, bowling over the Seeker team with a wave of his staff.

"But Master Grendel, Ryden will-"

"Do it, Ascion! There is no time!"

Reluctantly obeying his mentor's order, Ascion quickly reached out and flipped the red switch for the EMP. Immediately, a bluish wave of electrical energy shot forth from the device, rapidly enveloping the entire room. The Necropolis Seeker team did not have a chance to scream as the wave of energy washed over them, utterly obliterating them from existence.

The pressure of the EMP however also had a resonating effect on Ascion's mind; this was the only effect of an EMP that nobody could be made immune to.

The pounding in his head intensified, theatening to knock him out, and he could see Grendel already kneeling on the floor. Just before he passed out, he could've sworn seeing a black-clad figure halfway through the teleporter before it's lights winked out…

* * *

Ryden slowly awoke, his vision gradually returning to him. The last thing he remembered was answering the ringing phone, and then, a peculiar sense of displacement… then, nothingness. 

Until now. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, his vision clearing. He started to get to his feet, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw his mother gazing at him.

An overwhelming feeling of vulnerability overcame him, and he impulsively embraced his mother. She returned the embrace as any mother would have, and held her son close protectively.

They were safe now.

* * *

**A/N: Somewhere in Omega Sector…**

Of the four sides of the pentagonal platform, two were now empty. The Voidwalker gazed sadly at the place that his right hand was supposed to have taken. Sindri, too, had fallen, thanks to Koaxia, and now the Council's strength had been halved.

"You disappoint me, Melchiah. I expected better from your subordinate Dreznor." The Guild Master stated.

"It was… an oversight on my part, my lord. I had expected Dreznor to perform better as well… but apparently, he had underestimated his foe once again. I had tried to teach him to be less arrogant." The Voidwalker replied, his head bowed submissively.

"The son of Dracon is becoming more of a nuisance. It seems that we may have to take a more direct approach in dealing with him." The Guild Master continued. "You have proven to be incompetent for this once, Melchiah, and for that you will be denied the privilege of leading the next attempt."

He then turned to the Headhunter, who stood in the opposite corner of the pentagonal platform. "You, Raveshaw. Take a team of your finest Snipers and Dark Rangers, and find that priestess. Once she is dead, the son of Dracon will be easier to eliminate."

"Your will be done, my lord." The Headhunter answered, leaving the platform via his dark portal.

The Guild Master then turned to Melchiah. "Your next task is to find replacements for Dreznor and Sindri. At this critical juncture, we cannot afford to let the council to fall. Do not make the same mistakes with your selections as you did with Dreznor. If you succeed in finding competent replacements, I will reconsider entrusting truly important assignments to you once again."

Melchiah winced inwardly at the indirect insults, but he kept up a stoic outward expression.

"I hear and obey, lord." Bowing once more, he left the platform through his own portal.

_If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Perhaps I should oversee that priestess' assassination personally… _The Guild Master thought to himself. _Yes… with the priestess dead, the son of Dracon will be so much easier to remove from the grander scheme of events._

Turning around, he activated his own dark portal, and stepped through it.

_And once all the obstacles have been removed, and the Dracon recovered, nothing, not even Koaxia, will stop us, the Brotherhood of Necropolis, from dominating Bera.

* * *

_

A/N: Finally! I'm finished! I'm very sorry for the long wait, but I'm sure you guys can tolerate us for just this once, right? Well then, I'm off to work on the next chapter! Shockers abound (at least to hard-core RTS players) as the Wise Men's next move is revealed!


	13. The Global Defense Initiative

Disclaimer: We do not own Legacy of Kain, Star Wars, or Command & Conquer. Oh, and not forgetting Maple Story. XD

* * *

A/N: The Matrix influence will depart for a number of chapters and may make a return, if at all. In its place will arrive a more suitable, fitting set of 'borrowed' influences. After all, imitation is the best form of flattery. 

A/N 2: For all the Dead Six fans out there (if there are any to begin with), the whole commando team will be making a return in this chapter. So Kyu-kun, you'll be seeing Tora soon enough.

* * *

Chapter 13: The Global Defense Initiative

Athena Pierce pushed the small stack of papers across the conference table towards the Dark Lord. The leader of the thieves took the topmost paper off the stack, and retrieved a pen from his pocket, inscribing his signature on it. Athena had already done so, signing the agreement, and the Dark Lord passed the stack to Dances with Balrog. The massive warrior took his own paper, and scrawled his signature messily on it.

Athena gathered the papers, stacking them together once more, but there was still one who had not yet consented to the recent formation of the organization. Grendel.

The wizened magician was not here simply because he was overseeing the rescue operation that Ryden was attempting in order to rescue his mother. Personally, Athena had thought it was a suicide mission, but who knew what their prophesized savior was capable of?

The large double-doors to the conference room suddenly opened, and Grendel stepped in, looking rather haggard and exhausted, but pleased.

"He did it. The rescue was a success." The elder archmage stated. There was a collective sigh of relief from the other three; at least Ryden hadn't managed to get himself killed.

"We have Ceil kept away safe in the high-security district of Henesys. Necropolis won't be attempting any more kidnappings any time soon." The wizened magician continued.

"That is good news indeed, Grendel. But now that this crisis has abated, we have more pressing concerns on our hands." Athena replied, retrieving an empty sheet of the paper from the stack and holding it out for him to take. "We have received reports from our Agents that Necropolis is beginning to take a more active role – a much more active one – in their attempt to overthrow us."

"Oh really?" Grendel asked skeptically, stepping forward and taking his seat in the square conference table. "How so?"

"My spies have reported sightings of Necropolis personnel using Vacuum hacks to herd monsters into special 'holding pens'. The largest of these pens contains a horde of Taurospears and Wild Cargos, taken directly from the dungeon, and it is situated deep within the forest, closest to Henesys. Currently these pens are beyond our reach as Necropolis has these areas heavily guarded, and not even our Agents have been able to survey the area, save for aerial surveillance." The Dark Lord informed him.

"Herding monsters into holding pens? What are they up to? Are they hoarding them for training, or something else?" Grendel wondered.

"In the worst case scenario, they could be herding the monsters with the purpose of gathering enough cannon fodder to overwhelm the towns, given the close location of the largest pen to Henesys. We all know that their most infamous hack is the one that grants them control over the monsters." Athena answered. "Currently, the entire population of Bera is powerful and numerous, but unorganized. They all know of Necropolis' activities, and have made numerous attempts to stop them, but the efforts are few, poorly organized, and are far between. The general population grows weaker as they are robbed of monsters to train on, and they will soon be unable to stand up to Necropolis' attacks once they unleash their monsters on the towns. Some of them have even begun to cry out to us directly for assistance using the megaphones."

"And how exactly are we going to solve that problem? We can't take Necropolis on directly, and there's too many of them to send the Dead Six to eliminate."

"You've missed a lot, Grendel. While you were out there making sure Ryden didn't get himself killed, we were discussing how this problem could be rectified." Dances with Balrog remarked.

"Since we cannot take direct or indirect action against Necropolis, our best course of action is to empower the public to fight against them." Athena clarified.

"Empower them?" Grendel asked.

"Not in the same way that we empowered Ryden. We have decided to create an organized defensive force from volunteers gathered from the general populations of the towns, so as to have a feasible protection from the monster attacks if Necropolis decides to unleash them. The volunteers will be enlisted in this organization, and they will serve in its armed forces. Our armed forces."

Grendel pondered over it for a moment. "So… you want to create an organized fighting force to respond to emergencies from volunteers that are taken from all the four jobs?"

"Strength lies in unified diversity." The Dark Lord stated. "If things are allowed to remain as they are now, the whole damned world could be level 200 and they would still succumb to Necropolis' monsters. We need to unite the four jobs under a common banner before truly decisive moves can be made against Necropolis."

"And as such, we have formed the first world-wide organization," Athena declared. "The Global Defense Initiative!"

Pressing a finger down onto a button on her side of the conference table, the lights in the room darkened, and a holographic projector extended from the ceiling, projecting down onto the center of the table to image of an emblem.

Grendel noticed an appropriate likeness of the emblem to that of Necropolis; while the guild's black triangular emblem was that of a black scorpion tail, curled up and ready to strike against a red background, the Global Defense Initiative's circular emblem was that of a golden eagle diving for the kill, set against a silvery background.

It was an appropriate image; GDI's image was that of a bird of prey, one that would swoop down and devour the scorpion of Necropolis, removing it from the world.

"This organization may be in its infancy, but it already has several powerful members. The Dead Six shall be its champions, its public face of achievements. We also have a capable command crew hand-picked from the best of our ranks. One representative from each job will form the cadre of our lieutenants, and ensure unity amongst the classes." Athena continued; gesturing at the emblem projected onto the table.

"The representative of the warriors shall be Keiga Seles. He is the finest Dark Knight I have ever known, and perhaps the strongest as well. He will not disappoint us, I am sure." Dances with Balrog stated. He pressed a button on his side of the table, and the image of GDI's emblem switched to that of a massively built Dark Knight who hefted a Fairfrozen over his shoulder.

"The representative of the thieves will be Joseph Stalrigarde. He is an exceptional alchemist, and is not too shabby a Hermit. Of all the other candidates I had considered, he stood out the most because of his knowledge of alchemy; all the others were just too obsessed with flinging shurikens everywhere and summoning shadow partners." The Dark Lord remarked, depressing his own button. Keiga's image faded, replaced by that of a blonde hermit.

"The archer's representative will be Rathias Gardner. He is the first Ranger to ascend to the status of Bowmaster, and has proven to have an exceptionally keen, tactical mind. He will prove to be an able commander." Athena announced, displaying Rathias' image as well, that of a tall, brown-haired Bowmaster with hints of a 5 o'clock shadow. The three of them then looked at Grendel, who looked rather surprised at having to make a decision so soon.

"Well…" The elder magician took a moment to think. Who was the best, most prominent magician that he knew of, aside from Ascion? Ascion was a promising cleric, but his duties in the Dead Six prevented him from being selected as one of the Wise Men's lieutenants. In the end, there was only one other person he could think of…

"I choose… Grace Raizen as the representative of the magicians. She is a capable ice and lightning mage, the fastest I have seen to ascend through the levels, faster than even Ceil. I had originally intended for Ascion to take this position, but he is bound by his duties to his squad, so Grace will have to do for now." He reached out and depressed the button on his side of the table, displaying the image of a blonde-haired female mage. He reached out with a pen, and signed his own paper, passing it back to Athena.

"Very well. So it is decided; our lieutenants have been selected and will be placed in command of the organization. The Dead Six are to be informed of this as soon as possible." Athena concluded. "As of 1400 hours on October 12th, the Global Defense Initiative has been brought into existence, and will continue to stand till the day Necropolis is wiped from the face of the world."

* * *

**A/N: Later that day…**

Ryden stared out across the mountains of Perion, holding out before him his now-normal right forearm.

The draconic features of his then-mutated forearm had receded, allowing it to return to a human form, but Ryden felt no relief. In fact, he _missed_ the spectral forearm. He once again flexed the muscles of his human right arm, attempting to force the spectral limb to reappear simply by force of will, and scowling when his right arm remained as it was.

Frustrated, he thrust it outwards at a nearby stone bench, concentrating with all his will and attempting to summon the spectral forearm once again. He was rewarded with a brief, coincidental gust of wind that blew the dust off the top of the stone bench.

Growling in frustration, Ryden abandoned his attempts and strode over to the bench, collapsing onto it. Ever since that fateful event when he had utterly destroyed Dreznor, he had been attempting to once again tap into the power that he had gained from his death and resurrection. So far all he had experienced was moderately increased strength – particularly in his right arm, as well as enhanced dexterity and endurance. He had devised a few new combat skills to utilize those enhanced abilities, but he had been unable to tap once again into what the voice had called the 'Dragon Bringer'.

He assumed the Dragon Bringer was the name of the spectral forearm, and he surmised that the forearm had the ability to exert telekinesis, given the fact that he had been able to stop the shurikens in mid-air with sheer force of will alone. The extent of its telekinetic capabilities was uncertain to him, but Ryden believed there would not be much he could not accomplish if he managed to fully tap into its power; if he could just get it to manifest again!

Ryden sighed. Although his current capabilities were greater than what they were before, he still felt a sense of loss; the entity that had guided him in defeating Dreznor had enhanced his body with its power, and now that the entity was gone, Ryden felt a peculiar emptiness inside of himself, as though he was lacking in power that was rightfully his.

But he knew that the power he missed was not his to use, and he banished all further thought about the incident from his mind. All he had to focus on now was to get the Dragon Bringer to show itself again.

_**You may as well give up any further attempt, son of Dracon. It is obvious that that spectral forearm of yours won't be manifesting anytime soon. **_The voice of Alastor sounded in Ryden's head. The Deathbringer, in katana form, was slung across Ryden's back.

"Well, it can't hurt to try, can it?" Ryden replied, getting back up onto his feet. He was about to resume attempting to force the spectral forearm to manifest when Alastor interrupted him again.

**_Before you resume your futile endeavors, perhaps you should know that maybe the Four Wise Men need your attention on something._**

Ryden nearly recoiled in shock at the Deathbringer's statement. "And how would you know that?"

_**Look behind you. I don't think all your squad-mates would have assembled for no good reason.**_ Alastor responded.

Spinning around, Ryden saw that whole of the Dead Six had indeed assembled themselves behind him. Tora was absent-mindedly spinning a dagger by the tip of the blade on his index finger, expertly manipulating it, while Roxi was idly creating small plumes of flame by snapping her fingers. Ark was tapping his foot impatiently, and Ascion and Zeraion were looking at him expectantly.

Zeraion was the first to speak. "Ryden, we have to go. The Wise Men have called for an important briefing, said all Dead Six members are to be present."

Ryden nodded. "All right, then. It's about time I saw those Four Wise blokes again."

* * *

"Really, Athena, is it really necessary to break those weapons out of their storage? They were sealed away for a reason, you know." Grendel remarked as Athena worked over the lock that sealed the door to their personal armories. 

The lock was comprised of highly advanced technology, having been assembled in Omega Sector and sent to the Wise Men's headquarters for use. Athena pressed her palm against the bioscan, and then positioned her eyes in front of the retinal scanner.

"They were sealed away because they were deemed highly unstable and unfit for the general population to use; yes, I know that, Grendel," Athena replied. "But the Dead Six don't fall into the general population. While the son of Dracon and Phoenix were attempting to rescue the priestess, I have personally overseen the training of the other Dead Six members. They work like no other team I've ever seen before, and their progress is phenomenal. They are several times more powerful than any other player who is the same level as they are. I believe they are more than worthy to handle these weapons."

Grendel still was not satisfied. "It wasn't just the weapons' sheer power that warranted them to be sealed away, Athena, you know that as well. What if the Dead Six are unable to cope with the spirits that are trapped within the weapons? Their power is nearly on par with that of a Deathbringer, and the Dead Six members are not entirely like Ryden."

"No, not entirely. But I believe there is enough similarity for us to work with. I believe that the apt weapons to be bonded to their wielders can be chosen here, so everything should proceed well." Athena stated confidently.

She stepped inside the armory as the large, automated double-doors slid apart. Inside, there was a row of eleven weapons; a broad flame-bladed two-handed sword, a huge double-edged battle-axe, a spiked mace, a long, black spear with a wickedly sharp tip, a golden polearm with a razor-sharp cutting edge on the blade, a staff with an orb that glowed a holy white affixed to one end, a wand that had a similar but smaller orb affixed to the top that glowed a fiery orange, a black bow with dark golden handles that radiated an unholy black aura, a silver crossbow that had several holy runes inscribed across it, a blood-red claw that blazed with black fire from without, and a long dagger with a black blade that was marked with several crimson runes.

She stepped forward and picked the sword and the axe off their racks first, slinging them across her back. "These weapons will do just fine for Ark. He may be an axe-fighter, but versatility is required here. He'll have to learn to make do with a sword sometimes."

She then picked up the wand and the staff, and tossed them to Grendel. "Ascion and Roxi are going to need these. The staff goes to Ascion, the wand goes to Roxi." Grendel snatched them out of the air and slung them across his back as well.

Athena then strode down the row until she came to the black bow. "Phoenix will be needing this." She muttered to herself, picking the bow off the rack and slinging it across her back. She turned to the claw and the dagger, and then grabbed the dagger in favor over the claw.

"We're done here, Grendel. Now it is time for the Dead Six to truly become the champions of the Global Defense Initiative."

* * *

Dances with Balrog looked up as the doors to the meeting room opened. The Dead Six strode in, the commando team clearly puzzled as to why they had been summoned all at once. Evidently, this was an important briefing. 

"Gentlemen, lady. Please, have a seat. The briefing is about to start." The Dark Lord stated, gesturing with his left hand. As if on cue, six additional chairs formed around the table. "Grendel and Athena have just left to get the weapons."

"Weapons? We're receiving new weapons?" Tora asked.

"Patience, my good student." The Dark Lord replied. "Before you will know why you're being granted these new weapons, you will have to be briefed on the latest happenings."

The lord of thieves then pressed a button on the armrest of his chair. The lights in the room automatically darkened, and a holographic image flared to life above the center of the table.

The image displayed a bird's eye view of the forest surrounding Henesys, and the first thing that caught their eye was the massive cage that was situated in a clearing inside the forest. The cage was filled with monsters, a majority of them being Taurospears and Wild Cargos. As they watched, a band of Necropolis personnel approached the cage, followed mindlessly by a new batch of Taurospears. The cage door opened, the Taurospears were hustled in, and the door was quickly shut.

None of the monsters had shown any resistance whatsoever.

"Necropolis has been seen herding monsters into holding pens." The Dark Lord stated, gesturing towards the image. "What their purpose is, we are not yet certain. In a worst-case scenario, they're probably amassing cannon fodder to prepare for an assault on the four towns."

"And you want us to take them out for you?" Roxi assumed.

Dances with Balrog let out a roar of laughter at this.

"Don't be silly, girl." The elder warrior chuckled. "Those numbers will be far too many for the six of you to take on, no matter how powerful you are. Besides, there are many more holding pens than just this one. Taking them out yourselves will be as difficult as trying to defeat a Balrog at level 1!"

"If you're not instructing us to neutralize the pens, then what exactly did you call us over here for?" Ark asked impatiently.

"We are forming a force of our own, to counter this possible threat." The Dark Lord answered. He pushed another button, and the image vanished, replaced with GDI's emblem.

"The Global Defense Initiative. Formed from volunteers from all the four classes, all enlisted into one, unified armed force." The ninja lord explained. "You have been chosen as the champions of this force, and the public face of its achievements. We have already selected a commanding cadre of lieutenants, and they will be placed in overall command of this entire force."

The commando team raised a collective eyebrow at the new system, but made no specific comments. As long as they could strike back at Necropolis, they were happy enough.

Finally, Zeraion asked, "Who are our commanding officers, then?"

The Dark Lord reached down and pressed another button. GDI's emblem vanished, followed by a succession of portraits, displaying the images of the selected leaders.

"Keiga Seles; first Dragon Knight to ascend to fourth class and a capable battlefield leader." The Dark Lord stated. Ryden and Ark started a bit at this – they had heard of the legendary Dark Knight, but had never actually seen him in person. If they were going to be serving under the Dark Knight's leadership, perhaps this was their chance to actually meet a legend in the flesh.

"Joseph Stalrigarde; exceptional alchemist, and the only hermit I know of that is not obsessed with flinging shurikens and summoning Shadow Partners." The Dark Lord said with a twinge of dry humour in his voice. Tora smirked slightly at the mention of the hermit's name. He had heard that Stalrigarde was not only an exceptional alchemist; Stalrigarde was also filthy rich. The bandit had hoped that he would meet the hermit one day and ask him just how did he manage to amass three hundred million mesos to his name; such an amount was the dream of every rogue, assassin, bandit, hermit, and chief bandit on Bera.

"Rathias Gardner." The Dark Lord continued. "The first Ranger to ascend to the class of Bowmaster, and the possessor of a keen tactical mind." Zeraion perked up at the mention of Gardner's name. He had briefly worked with the Bowmaster before, back when he was just a mere archer and the Bowmaster was still a Ranger. He had sworn that he would become just like Gardner one day, a powerful Ranger, and now it seemed Gardner had gone even further ahead. Who else did he know had progressed even further and had been selected as one of their commanding officers?

"And the last, Grace Raizen. The ice and lightning mage that is currently the closest to attaining fourth class. She was a last-minute selection made by Grendel, but I'm sure she's competent enough."

Zeraion's heart nearly stopped from shock upon hearing her name. It was several moments later before he regained the ability to speak.

"Umm, Dark Lord?" Zeraion asked. "Did you just say 'Grace Raizen'?"

The ninja lord looked at him quizzically. "I believe I did, Phoenix. Is there something wrong with your hearing faculties?"

Zeraion opened his mouth to speak, and then he closed it, thinking the better of it. "No… it's nothing. Never mind."

Ryden glanced at his teammate curiously from the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything.

Suddenly the doors to the conference room opened again, and Athena and Grendel stepped inside.

Athena looked at the Dead Six, and said, "Ah, you're here earlier than I expected. The weapons are ready. Dark Lord, I believe they have been briefed?"

The Dark Lord grunted an affirmative.

"Very well. Commandoes, follow me, if you please. Grendel, prepare the sparring room." Athena ordered. Grendel nodded and disappeared in a small flash of light. Athena wheeled around and strode out of the briefing room, the Dead Six following behind her.

* * *

Several minutes of walking through the numerous corridors of their headquarters' later, they came to another set of double-doors. 

"The sparring room is through here. There is a magical field permeating this room that will prevent fatal injuries from occurring, so sparring partners can feel free to get as rough as they like." Athena explained, pushing the doors open.

"The weapons that are being issued to you are nearly on par with that of a Deathbringer, so use their power wisely. You will be practicing with these weapons against each other within this sparring room. And no, Ryden, you're not going to be issued any of these. Your Deathbringer alone is already enough." The fighter's face fell when he realized he would not be receiving any new weapons.

They stepped inside the sparring room, and Athena directed them towards a row of weapons that were lying on a table.

"These weapons have been chosen specifically to fit you. I must warn you, these weapons are spiritual in nature, and as such, there will be spirits inhabiting them. You and your weapons will have to learn to work together. Ark, you're up first."

The axe-fighter was a bit surprised at being the first, but he stepped forward anyway. Athena picked up the sword and the axe from the table, and handed both to him.

"The axe and the sword are known as the Twin Reavers, Ark. The sword is known the Soul Reaver, and the axe is known as the Blood Reaver. As their names imply, the sword devours your enemies' souls, while the axe drains their blood." Athena explained to him. With a confused look on his face, Ark took the weapons in both his hands simultaneously.

That confusion turned to surprise and horror as unimaginable pain suddenly wracked his body. Red and blue lightning curled up his arms from the Blood and Soul Reavers respectively, and snaked around his torso and down his legs. Ark convulsed as the electricity coursed through him, and he struggled not to collapse. Fighting his way through the pain, he was dimly aware of the others standing before him, staring at him in shock. Already he was losing the feeling in his limbs, and his head began to pound as he felt twin foreign entities attempt to take over his mind.

_No… I have… to control this power!_ Ark thought fervently to himself, and he fought back the entities, re-asserting control over his limbs. The mental tug-of-war continued for several minutes as the entities threatened to overpower him numerous times, but Ark refused to submit.

With a strained cry of exertion, he threw his head back and, with a massive effort, brought up both his arms and slammed both Reavers together, crossing their blades above his head – there was an explosion of energy as the twin arcs of lightning shot up the crossed blades, leaving Ark's body. The lightning faded away moments later, and the axe-fighter nearly collapsed as the pain finally receded.

Athena was smiling thinly. "Congratulations, Ark. The Reavers have chosen you as their master."

Exhausted from his mental ordeal, Ark could only nod briefly before his legs gave out under him, and he collapsed on his rump in an undignified heap. Ascion and Zeraion immediately moved to carry Ark to a nearby bench, and Athena picked up the dagger, holding it out for Tora to take.

The bandit did not hesitate, and immediately grabbed the proffered weapon. Almost instantly the weapon responded; black coils of energy snaked around Tora's arm as the weapon entwined itself around him, and Tora's face showed an expression of barely repressed revulsion. He too felt an entity attempt to take control of his body, but his expression steeled, and he fought back. The tendrils of energy coiled around his arm stopped snaking upwards and began to writhe, the spirit still attempting to push past his mental barriers.

Tora snarled in frustration, and he pushed back with renewed fervor. The writhing tendrils slowly began to shrivel, and a few moments later they retreated back into the weapon. Tora released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and he hooked the dagger onto his belt harness.

Athena gave him the same thin smile that she gave Ark. "And congratulations to you, Tora. The Night Raven dagger has chosen you as its master."

Tora nodded his thanks, and walked over to the bench where Ark was now sitting, his slight stumble the only sign of his exhaustion.

Athena then picked up the staff from the table, and held it out for Ascion.

The cleric took a deep breath, and stepped forward, taking hold of the weapon.

* * *

**A/N: A few minutes later, after they each gained control of their weapons.**

The Dead Six now stood in a circle around the sparring mat. Athena stood in the center, and she look over each member of the commando team one by one.

They all had rapidly recovered from their mental ordeals of dealing with their weapons, save for Ryden simply because he had not received one. Now, Athena could clearly see that they were itching to try out their new weapons.

The most eager amongst them seemed to be Roxi and Tora. Athena decided to let them spar first, and signaled them both forward, stepping out of the circle. Fire Wizard and Bandit stepped onto the mat, and eyed each other warily.

Roxi immediately brought up her wand, the Fiery Phoenix, in a ready position, holding it as though she held a dagger ready to strike. Tora held the Night Raven dagger in a similar posture, but in a reverse-grip.

The duo circled around each other for several seconds, watching each other carefully. Roxi was the first to attack; she quickly released a Fire Arrow at Tora. It was not really an attack, more of a test of Tora's defensive capabilities. It did not disappoint; Tora simply darted to the side as the arrow of fire harmlessly streaked past him. But at least she had a better idea of how Tora would defend, and she could now alter her tactics to compensate.

Tora lunged forward with his dagger, attempting to hit her with a Double Stab. Roxi raised a hand quickly and cast Magic Guard to deflect the blow, forcing Tora back.

She released another arrow of fire, and as she expected, Tora dodged to the side again. But this time, Roxi has a surprised planned.

Just as Tora landed on his feet, Roxi thrust out her left hand and commanded, "Flame Strike!"

The orb affixed to the Fiery Phoenix wand flared a brilliant orange, and a green, ethereal circular pattern formed around Tora's feet. The ground around him erupted in flames as a pillar of fire burst forth from the floor, and Tora was engulfed in flames.

Roxi smirked confidently and let her guard down. That had been deceptively easy…

Tora suddenly leapt out of the column of flames, roaring a battle cry as his clothing smoldered from the heat of the flames. He was visibly singed, but appeared largely undeterred.

"Savage Blow!" Tora shouted, rapidly slashing with the Night Raven. Roxi immediately summoned her Magic Guard, blocking the blows, and she attempted to counter the moment the last slash had been blocked.

But that was exactly what Tora had been counting on. Just as Roxi drew her wand back in preparation for a counter-spell, Tora deftly rolled forward, past her defenses, coming up _inside_ her guard.

He barely had time to register the shock on Roxi's face before he commanded, "Perforate Carcass!"

His right arm blurred as the Night Raven delivered a series of lightning-fast lunges, stabbing at Roxi several times in the blink of an eye. The stabs would have normally left several bloody wounds on her torso, but now they only caused painful bruises, courtesy of the magical field that permeated the room. The Fire Wizard stumbled backwards as Tora delivered a final, devastating stab that would have killed her instantly, but now instead only drove the air out of her lungs, and she fell onto one knee, gasping for air as her bruised ribs protested.

Tora raised his dagger in preparation for the finishing blow, but Roxi would not allow the fight to end this easily. Just as the bandit lashed out with another Savage Blow, Roxi disappeared in a flash of blue light…

… and reappeared right behind the bandit, her own wand raised. The sudden Teleport spell on Roxi's part had disoriented Tora as he fumbled with his attack, and the Fire Wizard used that distraction to great effect.

"Flamethrower!" Roxi commanded, thrusting out a palm. A stream of fire emanated from her palm as the arte was activated, and the flames slammed into Tora's back full on. The bandit was thrown flat on his face from the sheer force of the blow, and his clothing was visibly charred. Tora exhaled explosively as his chest slammed against the mat, but he quickly compensated and rolled to the side as he attempted to regain his breath, ignoring the painful stinging of the minor burns on his back.

Roxi immediately attempted to follow up with another Flamethrower attack, but Tora found his hands and feet at the last moment, back flipping onto his feet as the flames licked at the space he had occupied mere milliseconds ago. Another Flamethrower attack was unleashed just as Tora landed on his feet, and he stared at the incoming torrent of fire for a split-second before instinct took over.

Without even realizing what he was doing, he thrust the Night Raven upwards, and his body dissolved into a cloud of fine mist, one that quickly shifted to the right to evade the incoming attack.

The stream of flame passed by the cloud of mist, nicking the side of it but not having any visible effect whatsoever, and the mist quickly reformed a second later to reveal a very surprised bandit. Tora could only feel his shock at what he had accomplished for a split-second before the adrenaline rush of battle took over once more.

He could see Roxi and the rest of the Dead Six staring at him in shock, but he didn't really care. Acting completely on impulse, he lunged forward with the dagger again, aiming it at where Roxi's heart would be.

The Fire Wizard regained her senses just as she heard Tora's scream of triumph. Looking up, she saw the bandit diving straight at her; dagger raised in preparation for what would normally be a killing blow.

Like Tora had done so earlier, Roxi acted completely on instinct. She let out a cry of her own, and from her body exploded a brilliant blast of flame, more massive than any Explosion a Fire Mage could conjure. Tora was flung backwards from the blast, spinning end-over-end through the air, but he unconsciously recovered his balance in mid-air, landing nimbly on his feet.

Tora started forward with his dagger again, but Athena quickly raised a hand to stop the fight, shouting "Enough!"

Almost grudgingly, the duo obeyed their superior's orders, lowering their weapons.

"We have a draw. You two have done well." Athena praised them. "I haven't seen a fight like that in years! The last time such a duel occurred in only a friendly spar was between Rathias and Keiga. I am very impressed."

Roxi finally managed to calm herself down enough to slow the furious beating of her heart, but she was so exhausted that she could only nod her gratitude for the praise, her breath coming in short gasps. Tora was not so tired, and he managed a raspy "Thank you, ma'am."

The two slowly walked out of the circle and towards the nearest bench, wincing as they held their injuries. Once the mat had been cleared, Athena gestured the next pair forward.

"Ark, Ascion! Time for a little brotherly tussle." The Bowmistress called them out. Looking at each other casually, the two brothers, Fighter and Cleric, stepped forward into the mat.

"Don't expect me to go too easy on you, lil' bro." Ark remarked, drawing out the Blood Reaver while keeping the Soul Reaver holstered across his back.

Ascion smirked, twirling the Divine Fist staff with a flourish before setting it in a ready position behind him. "Wouldn't dream of it, Ark. Give me a challenge this time, will ya?"

Ark returned Ascion's smirk, and the brotherly banter was over. The fighter dashed forward, unleashing three Power Strikes with the Blood Reaver. Ascion quickly stepped back, blocking the Reaver's Power Strikes with his Magic Guard. His defenses nearly shattered as Ark let loose a Final Attack, and Ascion quickly rolled out of the way as the Blood Reaver's giant blade slammed down onto the spot he had stood on a second earlier.

Ark attempted to yank the axe out of the ground to strike again, but Ascion beat him to it. Twin blows from a Magic Claw spell slashed against his armor, and Ark was sent reeling backwards, forced to relinquish his hold on the Blood Reaver.

He rolled backwards, evading the next Magic Claw, and he drew the Soul Reaver from his back holster in an awkward movement. He was still unaccustomed to using swords, and he clumsily held it out in a ready position, longing for the familiar feel of an axe in his hands; particularly the Blood Reaver.

Ascion smirked confidently and closed in for the kill. Ark nearly panicked at the prospect of losing to his younger brother, and he decided to take his chances with the sword. Screaming, he lunged forward with the Soul Reaver, slashing with a poorly aimed Power Strike. Still, the suddenness of Ark's attack surprised Ascion and shocked him into inaction, and the Power Strike nicked him in the side of his arm.

The pain brought Ascion back to his senses, and he quickly leapt away from Ark, casting a quick Heal to seal his wound. The path cleared, Ark strode over to the Blood Reaver and yanked it out of the ground, holding it in his right hand while wielding the Soul Reaver in his left.

With a wicked grin, Ark gave his brother only a moment's notice before he charged forward, both weapons flailing. Ascion desperately summoned his Magic Guard to block the blows, but his defense lasted only seconds before the bluish-white barrier shattered beneath the force of the rapid-fire impacts. Quickly teleporting away, Ascion took a moment to regain his wits before he turned to face his brother, who had just realized that he had been slashing at thin air for the past few seconds.

Ark turned to face Ascion, but all he saw a white projectile approaching his face at very high speeds. The ball of energy exploded right between his eyes with a tremendous _bang_ and a brilliant flash of light, and Ark staggered backwards, howling and clutching at his eyes.

The fighter stumbled around like a drunk, blinded and deafened by the point-blank detonation. Ascion had launched a flash bang-like projectile at him to incapacitate him for several seconds, and the cleric used those seconds to fire off several Magic Claws and Holy Arrows.

The projectiles slammed into Ark head-on, and the fighter was thrown against the ground. Ark immediately rolled to his feet, and he shook his head, his vision starting to clear and his ears beginning to ring. Forcing his eyelids open a crack, he saw Ascion charging up a ball of energy in an outstretched palm.

Reacting on impulse, Ark leapt straight up into the air, towards Ascion just as the Cleric released his spell.

"Stasis Field!" Ascion commanded. The ball of energy in his palm exploded simultaneously with the flare of the Divine Fist's orb, and the area just behind Ark shimmered in effect. The fighter, while not fully affected by the spell, was caught in the periphery of it, and his movements perceptibly slowed.

But Ark was not to be denied. He was still traveling fast enough to attack Ascion, and he raised the Blood Reaver over his head just as he landed in front of the cleric.

"Infernal Sundering!" The fighter shouted as he brought the axe down in a broad arc. The blade cleaved through the air, and would have also cleaved Ascion in half as well if Ark's movement had not been slowed, and the cleric hadn't jumped out of the way in time. The resulting shockwave from the impact of the axe against the floor, however, was enough to send Ascion flying, and he sprawled against the floor messily as he landed hard on the mat.

Scrambling to his feet, Ascion brought up the Divine Fist just in time to block the double-blow from the Twin Reavers. The Soul Reaver now blazed with blue fire, while the Blood Reaver crackled with red lightning, and Ascion blanched as his staff barely managed to halt the blows. Ark grinned and pressed both blades down harder, forcing down Ascion's staff, and they came perilously close to making contact with his neck.

With a grimace, Ascion strained his arms and managed to push the blades back just an inch, but it was enough space for Ascion to put his new, hastily devised arte into action.

"Divine Shield!" The cleric barked. A golden barrier immediately formed around Ascion, and Ark was thrown backwards as the shield closed in around him.

Flipping back onto his feet, Ark saw that a thin but seemingly impenetrable wall of golden light surrounded his brother. He was about to start forward again when Athena ordered, "Stop!"

Reluctantly, Ark lowered the Reavers. The blue fire and red lightning faded away as the spirits within the Twin Reavers calmed, and the axe-fighter holstered them across his back, sweat dripping off his body, his breathing harsh. Ascion loosened his hold on the Divine Fist and held it loosely at his side, his head pounding from the strain of the spells that he had cast.

Athena had a broad grin on her face. "Well done, you two. This match was a draw as well. That fight was just as good as Roxi's and Tora's. Go and take a rest; Ryden and Zeraion are up next." She gestured for them to take a seat, and they happily obeyed, plopping themselves down onto the nearest benches.

Zeraion stepped forward onto the mat the moment his brothers stepped off. He twanged the bowstring of the bow that Athena had given him, the Abyssal Arund. The weapon radiated a dark aura in his hands, and Zeraion hefted the weapon uneasily. The weapon had an undisputedly dark feel to it, and Zeraion fought down his revulsion as the feeling of darkness intensified when he raised his bow, aiming it at Ryden.

The son of Dracon, meanwhile, unsheathed Alastor and held in a ready stance. His posture was expectant - almost as if he expected Zeraion to make the first move.

The hunter did not disappoint; Zeraion released a Double Shot, the two arrows leaving behind a fleeting trail of darkness as they whistled through the air.

Ryden easily dodged the arrows, leaning to the side, and he rolled forward before leaping into the air. Zeraion tried to track the moving warrior, but Ryden was moving so quickly that the hunter had trouble tracking him. He released an Arrow Bomb just as Ryden reached the peak of his jump, and the fighter descended upon the hunter just as the bomb exploded behind him.

Zeraion rolled out of the way as the explosion propelled Ryden into the ground, and the fighter hit the floor face-first. Ryden nimbly leapt back onto his feet and lowered his sword behind him.

Zeraion shot another Arrow Bomb at Ryden, but the fighter merely grinned before swinging his sword upwards, the blade crackling with lightning. The upward slash caught the Arrow Bomb from below, and the explosive arrow was thrown into the air. Ryden then leapt up towards the arrow, reared his sword arm back as though holding a baseball bat, and he batted the arrow back towards Zeraion.

The hunter's eyes widened in shock momentarily before he dove out of the way. The explosion singed him, but he was spared any real damage. He quickly got to his feet and aimed again at Ryden, releasing an Arrow Blow. Ryden easily deflected the shot, angling the blade so that the arrow bounced away harmlessly, but that wasn't what Zeraion had been aiming for.

Right in the aftermath of the Arrow Blow, he harnessed the remaining energy that the attack had not used, gathering it into a single bolt of energy that crackled in the nock of his bow. He drew back the string again and, without wasting a moment, roared "Final Attack!"

The bolt of energy shot forth from his bow, streaking straight towards Ryden. The fighter made to dodge it, but the bolt tracked his movements. It impacted dead center on his chest, and Ryden was flung backwards from the resulting explosion.

The fighter lay on the floor, dazed, and he dimly heard Zeraion's footsteps as the hunter strode towards him. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Ryden forced himself back onto his feet, ignoring the throbbing bruise on his chest. The hunter was walking towards him while keeping his bow leveled at Ryden, and Ryden threw himself to the side just as the Abyssal Arund began to glow.

"Inferno Strafe!" Zeraion cried out, the glow around the Abyssal Arund intensifying. Four fireballs shot forth from the bow as the hunter released the bowstring, and the fireballs tracked Ryden as he ran. The fighter nearly flew into a fit at the sight of four fireballs streaking straight at him.

_It's going to be some time before I can pull this move off again… _Ryden thought to himself. Steeling himself, he spun on his heel, facing the fireballs, and thrust out a palm.

"Ultimate!" Ryden bellowed. A golden disc of energy as tall as himself emanated from his palm, and the disc easily absorbed the fireballs as they impacted against it, dissipating harmlessly against the barrier.

He closed his palm, and the disc faded away. Raising Alastor, he charged forward towards Zeraion, steadily gaining speed, until he was nothing more than a blur that skidded across the floor.

He cocked Alastor's pommel against his shoulder, pointing the blade straight in front of him. "Stinger!" He shouted, thrusting the blade forward. Zeraion barely brought the body of the Abyssal Arund up in time to block the strike, but it was more than enough to knock the weapon out of the hunter's hand. There was a massive shockwave from the force of the clashing of the two weapons, and Alastor was flung backwards, Ryden stumbling in the same direction that his weapon was gyrating.

Instinct took over the moment the Abyssal Arund left his hand, and just as Ryden tried to recover, Zeraion thrust his palm into Ryden's midsection and commanded "Inferno!"

There was an explosion of flame where Zeraion's hand made contact with Ryden's armor, and the titanium-reinforced battle plates surrounding the area of impact cracked under the force of the blow, while those that were hit directly were incinerated. Ryden's skin was blackened and charred where it could be seen, and Alastor flew from his grip as the fighter was propelled backwards. Ryden landed hard on his back, skidding across the floor, but he quickly flipped back onto his feet.

Both the combatants were now unarmed, but that didn't seem to dissuade them. The duo charged at each other, fists flailing, and they snapped out of their battle frenzy only after Athena shouted, "Halt! That's enough!"

Blinking, Ryden finally realized where he was. He had been so caught up in the adrenaline rush of battle that he hadn't realized both of them were unarmed now. Zeraion blinked in similar shock; he stepped back and straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Athena stepped forward to them. "Brilliant, that was such a brilliant spar! Even better than the spar between Keiga and Rathias when they were just 2nd jobbers!" The broad smile on her face spread nearly from ear to ear. Zeraion hadn't received approval like this from his mentor before, so it was apparent that they had both impressed her the most.

"All right, you've all done well for your first sparring session." Athena addressed them all. "Go back to the dormitories we've prepared for you and take a rest. You've earned it. We'll call you up for your next sparring session tomorrow; at the rate you are progressing, normal monsters aren't good enough for you to train on!"

Ascion, Ark, Roxi, Tora, and Ryden all nodded, exhausted from the sparring, and they trudged out of the room tiredly. Zeraion however, stayed behind, obviously having something he wanted to ask his mentor.

Athena noticed the hunter staying behind, and she asked, "Is anything the matter, Phoenix?"

Zeraion remained silent for a moment before he spoke. "Ma'am… is it true that Grace has been selected to be one of GDI's generals?"

Athena looked surprised that he had even asked that. "Why, yes, Phoenix. Didn't the Dark Lord tell you that?"

Zeraion nodded, but looked down. "He did, Ma'am, but it's just that… Ma'am, you do know what kind of relationship I have with Grace, don't you?"

Athena sighed and nodded. "Yes, Phoenix. I know that you fear for her safety when she's placed in such a prominent position; generals are usually favorite targets of assassinations."

Zeraion shook his head. "No, it's not just that, Ma'am. There's also… Gault."

Athena's eyes darkened at the mention of the ex-Ranger's name. "Ah, yes. Gault. You fear that he will go after Grace personally?"

Unable to speak, Zeraion nodded mutely.

The Bowmistress sighed. "That is indeed a problem, Phoenix. I will try my best to assure that our Generals – not just Grace – will be adequately protected from assassins. Of course, you do realize that they are not incapable of defending themselves."

Zeraion nodded. "I know that, Ma'am. I'm just… worried for her. Please make sure she stays safe."

"Generals are never safe, Phoenix. You know that." Athena's eyes softened however, taking on an almost motherly look. "But I will do my best to assure that she does not come to harm."

His tense shoulders sagged with relief, and Zeraion gave his mentor a grateful smile. He turned to leave, but Athena called out for him to wait.

"Phoenix, there is one more thing. We've received word that Gault isn't on Necropolis' payroll anymore."

Zeraion raised an eyebrow. "And that's supposed to mean?"

"He's not just a mercenary for Necropolis now - he's _joined_ Necropolis."

* * *

Gault Isentryx strode through the halls of Necropolis' citadel. His new master had summoned for him urgently, stating that it was a matter of maximum importance. Not wanting to displease his new superiors, Gault decided that it would be in his best interests to hurry. 

Quickening his pace, he walked past a lab door that was marked "Top-secret: Weapons Research". He had heard rumors that Necropolis was developing some kind of new bio-weapon to implement against the Wise Men's forces, and that the bio-weapon in question came in the form of a self-replicating green crystal.

Gault dismissed such thoughts from his head. Let the eggheads in the higher ups figure out all the long-term strategies. He was here to get the dirty jobs done. He finally arrived at his superior's chamber, and he raised a hand to knock on the door.

"Enter." His superior's voice commanded before his knuckles had even touched the cold metal of the doors. The portals slid open, revealing a small dais that had a small flight of steps, illuminated by a weak shaft of light. Beyond that was utter blackness.

Gault strode forward, up onto the dais, and knelt on one knee, bowing down his head.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" The Dark Ranger asked, his head still bowed.

"There has been an… unexpected development in the war against the Wise Men." The voice of the Guild Master rang out from the blackness beyond.

"I have heard rumors, my lord." Gault responded.

"We have another enemy besides the son of Dracon; the young hunter that accompanied him during his rescue of the priestess Ceil. I have received reports that this young hunter used to be an old acquaintance of yours, Zeraion Phoenix."

"And only an acquaintance he was. Once I joined the payroll of this guild, all ties with him were severed. Not that it really mattered to me, anyway." Gault spat. His blood boiled at the mere thought of the good-natured, conservative hunter.

"Good. Disregard for your enemy's life are vital skills for an efficient killer. And you are going to need those skills; he could destroy us if not promptly taken care of." His Guild Master replied.

"He is just a boy. Athena won't be able to help him forever."

"The power of the archers is strong with him. Zeraion Phoenix must _not_ become a Ranger."

But an idea struck Gault. "But if he could be turned… he would be a powerful ally."

"Yes…" The Guild master agreed. "He would be a great asset. But can it be done?"

Gault finally looked up into the blackness, his eyes blazing with certainty. He raised his right hand, and clenched it into a fist.

"He will join us, or die, master."

* * *

A/N: Woo-hoo, finished another chapter in a shorter time, and even longer than the others! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! My writing pace is going to slow down a lot after this; I have lagging studies to compensate for. So don't expect updates to be very fast after this one. 


	14. The Legacy

Disclaimer: Yo-ho, theives and hackers, never shall we die

* * *

A/N: Master here. The Chief is currently unable to type out the next real chapter of LC, but here's a little snippet of Koaxia's history to keep you guys satisfied. By the way, in chronological order, this happens in between Chapter 13 and Chapter 15. For those who can't really grasp what this chapter is supposed to mean, this is just a little behind-the-scenes in The Lone Crusader. If you're even further confused by the mentioning of worlds like World of Warcraft, I'll try my best to explain it. 

In the eyes of normal players like Ryden, Zeraion etc., their day-in, day-out world of Bera is as real as the real world. Their level of awareness is limited, and they perceive Bera as 'real' and they are 'real people' that are living in it. However, in the eyes of the GMs and the Agents, they possess a higher level of awareness; they realise that they are merely sentient programmes who are in charge of running a virtual world, and there are other such virtual worlds out there eg. World of Warcraft. Anyway this is the best way I can explain it, it's difficult to fully explain. So try not to be too picky on the details and just enjoy the story, it makes things a lot easier on both us and you guys.

So, enough of us, go enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 14: The Legacy

_Creator, or destroyer? Messiah, or Reaper? Sometimes I, too, am confused about the past. About the role I played in reshaping this world. We were supposed to be saviors, creators of the new world order. Now we are broken, defeated, scattered. There was once a time where great individuals walked the land. At their beckon, cities rose or fell. At their whim, entire armies assembled or dispersed. Unfortunately, I am the last of that kind._

_You've heard of me as one of the six maniacs who turned our backs on justice and righteousness and willingly forsook what was honorable in order to gain power. In that case, you've heard wrong. We were supposed to be protectors, saviors to the dying world of Bera. Unfortunately, that did not come to pass. But that is unimportant. The history I am about to pass to you is known by no one other than the six of us, and perhaps the blessed saint himself._

_Just as there are two sides of a coin, this is our story: the true legacy of Koaxia._

* * *

**A/N: Ten years ago…**

The dying man lay in the small prison cot, heavily breathing his last breaths. It would be obvious that he wouldn't make it till morning for his trial. The trial would be unnecessary anyways, even if he was imprisoned or exiled, his physical condition would still result in the death sentence.

Gaius Cassius Longinus, the greatest of the Espardas and one of the agents instrumental in bringing down this frail old man's grand scheme was tasked to guard him. He stared impatiently at the clock, half an hour more until he passed the shift over to his comrade Melchior, another valiant warrior. The old man, despite his bedridden and weakened state, still exuded an imposing aura. Longinus shifted uneasily from foot to foot. It was perfectly natural of course, he was, after all, in the presence of Alien, the leader of the shadowy Orden de Caelestia, who had more or less controlled Bera's entire population for centuries unseen.

"Come…here…" he heard a raspy, but still commanding voice from behind him. The old man was calling him.

Cautiously, without lowering his beloved lance, Longinus strode over and knelt by the bedside. "What can I do to ease your passing sir," he asked respectfully.

"You have the spirit, fire, excellent," the old man painfully forced a smile, "Gaius Cassius Longinus, you have wisdom, insight, and a fighting will that is unrivalled. Should I have chanced upon you earlier, you would no doubt have been given the chance to learn at my feet. A pity your allegiance."

Anger flared in Longinus, "My duty is to the Four Wise Men! It was they that created the world, and it is they who love and care for it! Unlike you hackers!"

The old man entered a deep coughing fit, "Is that so? Think about it, o captain of squad I, if they loved the world so much then why do they not care about the people? Guilds are murdering each other! Younger players are forced to bow down to the ring leaders of territorial gangs or face harassment, or death. Higher-level players saunter about the novice hunting grounds, denying the younger populace of training experience for the fun of it. Yet, those four do not care!"

Longinus stepped back at the old man's sudden outburst and swallowed hard, thinking.

"Many a time you have been confused about your role. You are seemingly hunting down the ones who uphold justice, whilst ignoring those who flaunt it. You seem to be frustrated at the many rules and regulations restraining you. Longinus, you were born for a greater purpose!" the old man continued.

"I…agree," Longinus finally conceded, "Tell me, what can I do? Can you help me?"

"I can," breathed the old man, "but on a condition."

"That I swear to serve you for all eternity?" queried Longinus, anticipation the condition.

Unexpectedly, the old man burst into hearty laughter, "No my child. That is not my way. I am but a servant of a higher order."

"The Orden de Caelestia is the highest there is and you as its leader. Could it be there is another figure behind the Orden?" Longinus stammered as realization hit him.

"Wrong again. I am the last of my kind. But I have a mission set about by my deceased master, given to him by his master," the old man's eyes were alight with intrigue with this young warrior, "We carry with us the legacy of the great saint Zarathustra. In exchange for power, I merely want you to remember him, and carry on his legacy."

"Very well, your terms are fair. I accept," said Longinus.

"Excellent, excellent. Now, I have a successor, I have fulfilled my oath, I can rest in peace. Go now, young Longinus, carry with you the memory of the great sage. Strike out at it alone or recruit the most clear minded warriors and scholars. Either way, keep his legacy alive! _Also Sprach Zarathustra_!" letting out his final breath, the old man slumped back into the cot, dead.

But it did not end there. A spectral ball emerged from the old man's body and hovered aloft for some moments, before racing towards Longinus and slamming into him. The Esparda was thrown off his feet by the impact. As he arose, dazed and groggy, he felt his power increase thousand-fold, and his consciousness spread in vast directions.

He sat on the floor, stunned at this new revelation, until he heard a creak from the door. Springing to his feet, he pointed his lance at the entranceway…at a shocked Melchior.

"I assume its my shift now…right?" Melchior muttered, not taking his eyes off the imposing lance.

"No it's not," replied Longinus, "The old guy didn't make it. Go get some sleep, I'll write the report."

* * *

It was only several days later that Longinus tried using his newfound powers. A hundred times hundred new spells had flooded into his head. He found himself capable of withstanding attacks that would have killed him three times over before. Attacks that once consumed all his mana and took up all his concentration now could be used as freely as water flowed, and required only the briefest of thoughts to cast. 

In order to avoid suspicion, his report showed his usual lack on interest in paperwork, and was submitted his usual three days late. However, he knew that in the citadel of the wise men, he could barely scratch the surface of his powers without being detected. And as long as he was an Esparda, they'd know he had such supernatural abilities.

There was only one thing left to do: strike out on his own.

But he had certain reservations about this. Firstly, he was no lone ranger, and most lone rangers he knew, for that matter, rarely survived. Secondly, he knew that once he set off on this project of his, he'd have to face his friends in combat again. Thinking restlessly for days, he finally came up with a solution so simple he nearly slapped himself.

* * *

**A/N: Days later…**

"It's rare for you to buy us dinner," commented Balthasar, captain of squad II, "What's up?"

"There's definitely something on your mind Longinus, spill it," agreed Smithosian.

Longinus had them gathered at a fancy restaurant somewhere in Henesys for dinner, and the six Espardas were seated at a round table in one of the private rooms at the back.

"Take a look at this," Longinus started, picking up a fork, "This fork weights about ten grams, is made of steel and coated with a thin layer of chromium about one micrometer thick."

"And this is a chopstick which is about to fly into your head," mocked Descartes captain of squad V, twirling a chopstick around his index and middle finger, "Cut the crap and get on to the main story."

"Very well," The fork in Longinus' hand was reduced to a ball of energy.

"You and your artifice...we've seen this trick already-" Casper, captain of squad III, was about to continue Descartes' teasing, and live up on Descartes' threat when he realized something, "Wait…artifice converts mana to matter, not the other way around."

The other five members instantly perked up.

"That is correct. You see I have gained new powers and insights and I wish to share them with you," offered Longinus.

"Such power, divine," muttered Smith, "Where did you get it?"

"The old man gave it to you didn't he?" queried Melchior.

"He did," confirmed Longinus. The room fell silent. "You have all complained to me that you wish to do something about the current situation in Bera, but none of you are capable of doing a thing due to protocol set by those four blokes. Now is our chance to rebel! To make our new order! The opportunity has presented itself to us, and all we need to do is to take it."

The room grew even more silent.

"What say you?"

Casper broke the silence, "You sold your soul to the devil. You conspired with a hacker."

"I will sell my soul to a thousand devils if need be, in order for justice to be brought to Bera. Now I ask: are you with me or against me?"

Balthasar followed up with the concerns, "What of the four wise men, even if you leave and strike out on your own they'll still hunt you down, knowing you're a hacker."

"With great rewards comes great risk. But if the powers of the blessed saint Alien are insufficient to hold off those four then there is nothing in this world that can!"

An even deathlier silence filled the room, the other five Espardas deep in though, until Smith stood up.

"You're crazy," he declared approaching Longinus, "And the only ones crazy enough to think they can change the world, are those that do. I'm in." He extended a hand.

"Can't let you two steal all the glory. Sounds fun being the bad guys for once," Melchior stood up too, and placed his hand on Smith's.

Descartes, Casper and Balthasar also got up and placed their hands on top of Melchior's. All eyes turned on Longinus, who smiled and placed his own hand atop the pile.

"This party's getting' crazy. Let's rock boys!" declared Longinus.

"But before that can we eat? I'm hungry…"

* * *

The Espardas slowly took more time for themselves over the course of the next few months, leaving the mundane duties of general game patrolling to the lesser agents. They, of course, had another agenda: to fully understand the depth of their newfound powers and find the best ways to manipulate them to them. 

"We need a good hiding place," Longinus spoke up one day, "We'll be caught, drawn and quartered in the citadel, and I believe these powers are too great to be used anywhere else without someone noticing."

"How about the free market?" suggested Melchior, "There's plenty of people there and we observe immense fluctuations of data daily."

"Suicidal, ever seen it on Saturday afternoon when the shopping crowd comes in? You'd be good if you can sneak a sack of potatoes in without someone asking for a quote," said Descartes.

"Kerning Subway? No one ever goes to the bottom levels," Casper threw out his idea.

"Which will make it weird when people actually go there, much less keep visiting every other day," muttered Balthasar.

"Passage of Time," declared Smith, "The moronic higher-ups decided that they'd bring in that misty effect to make the place too magical. We see fluctuations everyday so it's pretty normal. Only high leveled players go there so we'll be seeing no more than fifty players a day, all scattered about. Not enough to draw the attention of those four blokes but enough to cover up for us."

"Agreed, finally a good idea," said Descartes. With a snap of his fingers all six Espardas were teleported there, "Now let's all look for a decent spot to build the tree house."

Over the next few minutes, they scanned every nook and cranny for the ideal place, but sadly, found none. High platforms, isolated ledges, caves and hidden streets of sorts, nothing.

"No trees moron, great job," Casper gave Descartes a jab in the ribs.

"I beg to differ," Longinus was peering into an opening in one of the immense pillars. What was on the other side was totally unexpected. Trees: a whole forest of them.

As they entered the new map, there was only one thing on all their minds.

"What the fuck is this place?" Smith gaped openly. He'd pursued many a hacker there before but had never seen this place.

Longinus checked his PDA, and then said, "The Glades of Koaxia. A scrapped project from way back in version 0.3. I guess the server's getting messy. After all the cost cuts I guess Wizet decided to fire the server maintenance techie."

"All the better for us. Now we have a hiding place, we need a name for this secret club of ours. How about…super friends?" suggested Descartes, only to have to dodge a volley of arrows from Casper.

"Screw you, that sounds dumb. Justice League? Anyone?" this time Casper was forced to dodge Longinus' lance.

"You watch too much cartoons. I prefer to name ourselves after this place. After all, we are like this land, we exist, but no one knows about us. We are ignored, neglected, but some day we shall have our revenge," said Longinus.

"So we're settling for Koaxian Heroes? Koaxian Avengers?" Melchior was evidently getting impatient.

"Something simpler. The Order of Koaxia," replied Longinus, settling back to bask in the glory of the name.

"You ripped that straight outta warcraft!" complained Smith, "But I happen to like warcraft so I'm not going to object."

"So we're settled. Now let's get to work."

* * *

"You're resigning?!" Athena Pierce choked out. 

"Yes. There is no longer a point for me to remain an Esparda. Since I am constantly hampered by various restrictions I can no longer police the game properly. And since I have such responsibilities as an arbiter of justice I cannot enjoy the game either. Should I return to being a normal player then I feel I can at least achieve the second," elaborated Longinus.

Longinus had just submitted his letter of resignation to the main office of the citadel where the four wise men spent most of their time. Behind him stood his five companions and before him, the four wise men themselves.

"Longinus, if you have any problems at work or anything, please do tell us. We'll do our best to help," Grendel said in a slow, calming voice.

"No problems Grendel. I'm returning to being an ordinary player just to enjoy the game. Besides, it's not as if I'm going to disappear completely right? If you ever want to have me over for dinner you can just call," assured Longinus.

"Very well, although I'd hate to see a good soldier like you go," Dances finally gave in, "Do as you wish."

"Thank you," Longinus turned to leave, as did the other five.

"Where are the rest of you going? Don't you have stuff to say also?" the Dark lord queried.

"The letter is addressed to the four of you, but it does not state who it is from," started Smith, "it is from all of us. Longinus has said it all." The six then left the office.

Stunned Grendel managed to choke out, "We lost six captains in a day. Something fishy's going on. Keep them in our radar for the next few weeks. If they're up to anything, we'll see."

* * *

_Of course, we steered way clear of their scanners for the next few weeks, pretending to be normal players and leading, well, normal lives. But once we sensed we were off their scopes, all limits are off and we secretly met back in the Koaxian Glades to nurture our power._

_You could say it was like a drug. Once tasted, the sweetness lingered in your mind forever, totally impossible to erase. It grew like an infestation, demanding more and more. And we had no choice but to supply it. Not that we didn't want to anyway. The prospect of us taking over from the four wise men was too great to ignore, even if it mean resorting to the means we had once so despised._

_As our powers grew, so did our arms and armor. Our mails and garments gain magical properties never seen before in Bera. They turned blows as easily as a mountain withstands the wind, and our Deathbringers reached heights of power which we could never dream of._

_Famfrit, the Darkening Cloud; Mateus, the Corrupt; Shemhaizal, the Whisperer; Cuchulainn, the Impure; my own Adramelech, the Wroth; and Longinus' Ultima the High Seraph. They lent their aid to us all these past years, and they in turn were rewarded, fed with power they could only scarcely imagine. It was glorious._

_We each adopted an element and each took a title upon ourselves, a point of the compass. Mine was the Earth aflame, and fire was my domain._

_Soon, we had mastered all there was to master, and set off to right the wrongs that the four wise men had made._

* * *

**A/N: Months after…**

"Another mass murder. Last night someone attacked a guild and wiped everyone out," Athena announced.

"That's the seventh guild extermination, on top of the hundreds who have already been assassinated. How go the investigations?" asked Grendel.

"Horrid. Last time we had a pretty good idea who it was. A single guild with several level 200 players was top of the list, since only they could have overpowered another guild with many high-leveled players," the Dark Lord started.

"Unfortunately?" Grendel sensed there was another part of the story.

"That guild was the one exterminated last night," came the ominous reply, "Furthermore, according to what little forensic evidence we can gather, the perpetrators seem to be numbering no more than ten, although five would be a better estimate."

"Ten men against a hundred, overpowering them with almost casual ease, as I can see. Hackers?" suggested Grendel.

"No way. We've had a record low of hackers. In fact many of these guilds were supposed to be harboring hackers, KS-ers, scammers and bullies. If I weren't bound by protocol I'd give these guys medals," muttered Dances.

A silence drew upon the office, until it was broken by someone opening the door.

"Hi guys, I'm back," a bespectacled man entered and greeted.

"Hi Bob, welcome back. We kinda missed you. The server's in the back. Please do something about it," Grendel returned the greeting.

"I guess the executives finally decided that they were sick of ignoring complaints about lag and decided to call you back to maintain the server eh?" said the Dark Lord.

"Uh huh," nodded Bob, "But I'm only back on contract for a month. Come June I'm starting work with Blizzard's World of Warcraft." He took a while to stare at a small desk where he once sat at, before proceeding to the server room at the rear of the office.

"Back to the point, I hope we can get an answer soon," stated Grendel, "What happened to Bob might happen to us, and I don't think Blizzard needs any more GMs."

The answer came soon enough.

"Hey guys," a voice came from the back: Bob's, "Can I delete the Koaxian Glades map?"

"Sure," Grendel yelled back, "We have no use for it. If memory serves you were still here in version 0.3 when we scrapped it. I remember you being at the meeting complaining about how much memory it would take up in the server."

"But there's players in it!" protested Bob.

"What the-" the four GMs sprung out of their easy chairs and made greased lightning look slow. Upon seeing the data encryption codes of the players in the map, all suddenly became clear. The assassinations, the murders, the conspiracy theories…

"That maniac Alien said something about planting the seeds to a better world. I never expected our captains to be those seeds…"

* * *

**A/N: The next day…**

The Order was spending their time like any ordinary day. It seemed the blessed sage was right. Players were now being kept in check. Guilds, fearful theirs would be next, reported hackers, were kind to newbies and punished members severely for acts of bullying. All thanks to Koaxia.

But Longinus knew one day, they'd have to fight the GMs. And unknown to him, that day had come.

"Longinus," Smith awoke him from his daydream, "We've been found."

Longinus rose up and saw the plateau they used as a base and staging area was surrounded by a sea of agents.

"Orders?" asked Mechior.

"Lay waste to them," the lead Esparda declared, "Those who dare the challenge us shall die."

With that, he snapped his fingers, and huge lengths of magical chains emerged from the ground around him, and slammed into the approaching agents down below. With that, the six Espardas leapt to the foot of the plateau onto the oncoming horde.

It was nice, slaughtering them like this. Smith had once considered such men allies or underlings, but no longer. They were merely cannon fodder for him to practice on. Adramelech had been drawn and was now blazing in his grasp, eagerly sinking into the flesh of its master's enemies and reducing them to ashes.

At his call, huge fireballs incinerated all in his path, and columns of fire slammed into the massed ranks of the army of agents, leaving burnt skin and charred flesh in their wake. He loved it like this. Most opponents he fought died too quickly and easily. Not that these enemies were very much stronger, but at least they had the numbers.

He looked over and saw a scene very much contrasting to his. Whilst he opted to leave piles of smoldering bodies lying around, Balthasar sent bolts and tornadoes of freezing wind and hail onto his enemies. Those what weren't pierced to death by the hail were frozen into massed solid chunks, gleaming in the sun like a field of diamonds. It was beautiful, as it was deadly. Anything that Balthasar touched froze, seemingly like Midas, just this time with icy diamonds.

To his other side, Casper's bow shot poisonous snakes everywhere, whilst spiders crawled the battlefield, searching exposed flesh to sink their deadly fangs into. The entire area was covered in a purple smog. The stronger agents choked and coughed. The weaker ones died instantly, their faces contorted with agony. They wore the same looks as they sank to the floor, to be devoured by a horde of spiders, scorpions and other emissaries of the poison element. Absolute chaos, painful screams. Smith eagerly approved.

The most graceful of the six, Melchior danced about, twin daggers drawing blood, as if in a trance. Each hand operated almost individually from the other, as though there were two Melchiors each with one dagger. His speed made up for the somewhat crudeness in his choice of weapon, easily slipping past the defenses of his adversaries and placing lethal cuts with almost surgical precision. Lightning bolts flared around him, dazzling those who were out of their reach, and dispatching those unfortunate enough to be within. The bolts were as if lights, illuminating a stage as the Esparda danced his symphony of death.

As much as Smith would have liked to be entertained by Descartes, he could not. The warrior of the night had surrounded his entire section of the battlefield with swirling blackness, impenetrable by the sun, nor the strongest of illuminating spells. What he could hear, however, were the tortured calls of the agents trapped within, meeting their demise from a source they could not see.

As for the leader himself, Longinus, his display was the most staggering. Sitting impossibly still on a rocky outcrop, he silently chanted and meditated, as beams of light rained down from heaven reducing those who stood against him to atoms, then to nothingness. The beams were so intense that they shone like a sunrise, banishing the shadows, blinding the unprepared.

Then, as fast as the massacre started, it stopped. The agents, as if seeing some invisible signal, retreated, parting the horde for four individuals: the four wise men.

"I knew you were up to something," started Grendel, "I just didn't expect this."

"We are establishing a new world order," declared Longinus, "One better that the current."

"From your eyes I can tell there is no longer a way to dissuade you from your path with words," lamented the old wizard.

"Indeed," confirmed the Esparda. Then, without a further word, both fighters launched a devastating magical attack at each other. The impact flung several agents off their feet, and caused others to drop to their knees, but neither did the wise men, nor the Order flinch.

Instead they charged, in one final epic battle to decide the fate of the world.

* * *

Athena Pierce had seen Balthasar and Casper fight before. They were awesome fighters, a terror to behold in battle. Yet never in her wildest dreams did she ever expect to be doing battle with either of them, let alone both. But here she was, desperately strafing along the battlefield, unleashing showers of arrows onto her two opponents. 

Her battle strategy was simple: to outflank whoever she was up against and shoot him to death. But it was hard to outflank someone who was nearly as fast as you, and hard to shoot to death someone else who used gigantic walls of ice to shield himself. Casper's poisonous smog was slowing her down and weakening her enough. And with Balthasar creating an endless labyrinth of icicles, leaving the ground slippery and treacherous, she knew quietly that she was outmatched.

Despite this, she wasn't going down without a fight. Summoning her valor, she gave a shout and summoned all the power within her, resulting in an outward surge of pure might. Pausing for awhile, she then re-entered combat, her speed and strength heightened above their already superhuman proportions.

Unwilling to lose out, both Balthasar and Casper reached deep into their energy pools and released all their strength. Stripping down all combat limitations, they drew upon their second releases.

A giant cobra, made seemingly out of pure poison vapor emerged from the ground, spewing venomous acid from its fanged maw. Casper perched atop its frilled head, then both lunged at the bowlady.

Balthasar on the other hand had surrounded himself in an icy suit or armor. From his back extended gigantic icy wings which allowed him magical flight. Anything that he passed froze in icy splendor, leaving trails of shimmering crystals behind.

The Dark Lord wasn't faring any much better that his counterpart. In response to him using all his might, Melchior and Descartes too used their second releases. Melchior's daggers extended into light vibrating rapiers whilst he himself gained speed that even the Dark Lord could not see unless he strained his eyes.

Descartes, on the other hand, merged completely with the many shadows he had left in his wake, moving sliently and stealthily as death itself, he nearly caught the Dark Lord unawares several times. Only quick instincts kept the Lord of Rogues safe from Deacartes' attacks.

Smithosian's Adramelech flared brighter than ever. Duking it out in single combat with Dances with Balrogs, it was a test of strength and endurance, both of which they had plenty of. They held each other's swords at bay for long, tense moments, both parties seeking to use brute force to overcome the other, and neither willing to break out of the deadlock unless an opportunity to strike at an exposed side was presented. And even then the other would skillfully manage to send the imposing stroke harmlessly wide. Each time their blades met, sparks flared and the ground shook. Each warcry they called was carried for miles.

But overshadowing all the other three duels was Longinus' battle with Grendel. The elder magician sent sparkling bolts flying from his staff, whilst the lead Esparda produced weapons out of thin air and sent them hurtling towards his opponent. Despite the ferocity of the onslaught form both sides; none of the attacks met their mark. They were either deflected by another, or smashed harmlessly on an invisible shield. Longinus directed his legion of weapons to strike at wherever he viewed Grendel as weakest, but Grendel easily conjured shields to block out the hail of steel, before returning in kind devastating spells.

Although no blood was shed, the fatigue of the conflict was evident as both parties started sweating and panting through gritted teeth, grim determination giving them the energy needed to give or receive the next bombardment.

The epic battle lasted several days of non-stop fighting, before the combatants felt their bodies reaching the very limit. Grendel knew he had to end it fast. The thought of killing every muscle cell in his body due to exhaustion wasn't a very pleasant thought.

With a shout, he summoned mana from every corner or Bera and concentrated it in a single spell.

"Longinus! This is the final attack!" he cried out over the torrential roar of the spell, "It draws magical energy from every human, every place, everything that has mana for a final blast!"

"In that case, we are at odds," replied Longinus, He too started drawing energy from Bera itself, and manifested it into a sword, "This sword contains the essence of every physical weapon every created. It encompasses the physical strength of every living thing in Bera!"

"Then let us do battle one last time!" demanded Grendel, "Final Arcana!"

Unwilling to lose out, Longinus too released his stored energy, "Ragnarok!"

The two mighty forces clashed, might versus magic, neither willing to back down. The spells started to build up energy around them, and then imploded, resulting in a cataclysmic explosion. The dust cloud it kicked up blanked out the sun and the shockwave it released uprooted giant oaks, and burrowed furiously into the ground.

When it finally died down, the Koaxian Glades were no longer what they were several days earlier. Spatial distortions and pixilated images were everywhere.

"What is happening?" asked Longinus.

"Our fight has damaged the map too much. It can no longer be used," Grendel sadly stated, "It seems that not only this map, but others too have been damaged, though not as badly as this."

"Why is this happening? This is not what we wanted," Smith despaired.

"The management are pricks. The server can only take that much processing power as we are giving you, plus a little more for backups. Should people like you guys distort the balance, the server starts to break down," explained Athena.

"So you are saying that we are tearing the world apart," queried Melchior.

"Indeed," confirmed the Dark Lord, "Other hackers are doing so to, but we managed to keep them under control. It seems this fight of ours resulted in more damage than all of them put together. Thankfully this is a closed map to be deleted from the start, so the damage to the main server is minimized."

"I did not know that this would happen," Longinus muttered in disbelief.

"We do not blame you for that," consoled Dances, "We know you were tricked. For that, you will be allowed to stay, but we're keeping you all on a tight leash."

"There is no point staying. If someone takes our place, he'll probably get killed by you all, and if no one takes our place, the society will continue spirally down into social disintegration. I want no part in this," he turned to the other six Espardas, "Come, Korea and Japan are experiencing an economic boom. There are other worlds out there to conquer."

With that, the Order disappeared from the face of Bera in a brilliant flash of light, and were never seen again.

_Until now…_

* * *

Astella woke up from her slumber in cold sweat. It was a dream, indeed, but it seemed too realistic to be just a dream. 

"You snore," a voice came from the window. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and spun around to face the voice. It was Smith.

"Are you here to kill me?" she asked, curiosity overtaking her fear.

"No."

"Why did you tell me that story?" she asked again, relieved she'd make it at least to another sunrise.

"Longinus bid you to know," Smith replied coldly.

"A war is going to start soon. What are you going to do about it?" Now her fear was gone and she was firing questions like an over-eager reporter.

"Nothing. We aren't involved in this mess, Bera can go solve its own problems," he further explained, "I'm merely back to ensure that you guys are not desecrating the name of the holy sage Zarathustra, which you aren't, thankfully for you."

"So what will you do now?" Astella's curiosity was getting the better of her.

"Observe. I'll be gone soon enough. My job is done," he said, with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Ok, last question," she obviously caught the hint, "Where is Koaxia now?"

"Biding our time to conquer another world," he then added, "Although I have some advice for you: stay as far away from the conflict as possible. It's going to get very, very messy."

And with that, the Esparda disappeared into the stillness of the night.

_Stay as far away as possible? Whatever for? _Contemplated Astella, as she stared into the starlit sky.

* * *

**A/N: The next day...**

Astella flipped through the pages of the tome rapidly, her eyes skimming over details and dismissing them as irrelevant as quickly as she saw them. A pile of already-examined books almost as tall as herself rested on the table to her right, and and even larger pile of unexamined books rested to her left.

She sighed in frustration as she cleared the last page of the tome, and she snapped it closed before flinging it to her right. The book flew upwards and came to a perfect rest atop the pile, and she summoned another book in front of her with a wave of her hand.

"The Legacy, the Legacy of Koaxia..." The cleric muttered to herself. "That sword was rumoured to contain remnants of that legacy, but just where is it in these books?"

She had been browsing through all the tomes available that had even the slightest mention of the Order of Koaxia for hours, but never had she seen any mention of any sword that the six members of the Order had supposedly bestowed a portion of their power unto.

Mentally exhausted, she snapped the tome in front of her shut and closed her eyes. Why was this sword so elusive? Was the power it harboured that great that even the mighty Koaxia thought it best to hide it instead of flaunt its power?

The answer struck her like a lightning bolt. Of course! No wonder there wasn't any mention of it in the Koaxian tomes; it wasn't even of Koaxian origin!

Astella cleared away the books resting on the table with a sweep of her arm, and they all flew off to their assorted bookshelves to automatically rearrange themselves. With a thought, a new set of books separated themselves from their shelves and floated towards her, settling down on the table in neat piles.

In the beginning of his tale, Smith had made mention of the old sage Alien; maybe the books on the leader of the Orden de Caelestia would contain more information on the sword. After half an hour of searching, she finally what she had been looking for; a vague reference to the sword, and instructions as to which book she could find more information on it.

Astella sighed in frustration. She had been looking in the wrong places all this while; she heard that the sword was associated with the Order, but it was actually associated with the one who perpetrated the formation of the Order! According to the books Alien had once bestowed upon a Crusader a sword that had been endowed with a portion of his powers, so it remnants of Alien's legacy, not Koaxia's, that resided within the sword!

She called the book she needed from the pile with a flick of her wrist, and it came to rest in front of her. She immediately grabbed it and flipped to the page she needed, and her features finally brightened in satisfaction. At last, she had found what she was looking for. Power beyond her wildest dreams was finally possible for her to acquire, and then perhaps she would be strong enough to be worthy of either confronting or becoming a member of Koaxia. All she needed to do was to find and acquire the sword mentioned in the books...

On the page in front of her was a picture of Alien handing down the Force Edge to a tall, silver-haired Crusader.

* * *

A/N: There you go. Send in the reviews; they'll speed up our writing rates exponentially once our graduation exams are over. As an added incentive, a secret ending is in the drawing boards but will only be released if reviews hit 85.  



	15. Escalation

Disclaimer: Me again? Didn't I just do this a couple of chapters ago?

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. I tried to type whenever I have the time, but free time is a precious commodity for me when my graduation exams are so near. Anyway, I'll make this chapter extra long to compensate for it. 

A/N 2: One thing you guys ought to know in case you haven't realized it yet; The Wizard That Got Bored is my younger cousin, so there will be quite a number of similarities between his story and mine. For one thing, you'll be seeing the same skills from _Granado Espada_ debuting in our fics, so don't be surprised if you see Violent Shooting Star appearing in two fics. Oh, and don't think that we're stealing each other's ideas. It's quite the opposite; we feed each other with ideas.

* * *

Chapter 15: Escalation

The night was dark. The moon hung over the streets of Henesys in a large crescent, shining down miniscule amounts of moonlight that provided little illumination. The roads were totally deserted and totally silent, save for the occassional scurrying rat that would be scavenging for scraps of food from the roads. Occasionally the silence would be broken by footsteps, as a congregation or two of adventurers wearing what looked like battle uniforms, each with the insginia of a golden eagle diving for the kill from within a circle, would appear, patrolling the streets of the town for a few minutes before reporting in to their superiors through a radio and then and leaving.

As the GDI guards left the street, a figure clad in black armour appeared from where they had come. His armour was similar in design to that of the GDI guards, with the exception of the black paint job, and an additional insignia on his collar. The insignia comprised of the same golden eagle of GDI diving for the kill, except that it was not in a circle, and instead clutched six bloodied arrows in its talons: the insignia of the Dead Six.

In the dead of night, Zeraion Phoenix had been summoned to the high-security district of the bowman town, along with Ryden. For what reason, he did not know, but if he had been summoned at this ungodly hour then the matter must be urgent.

It had been two months since GDI's formation, and the fledgling organization had quickly swelled into a fully-fledged fighting force. The number of volunteers who had willingly enlisted into the Wise Men's armed forces was staggering, in Zeraion's opinion. Apparently the general population had heard of Necropolis' brutal massacre of Last Hope, and now they all wanted a piece of the power-hungry guild.

GDI's soldiers now numbered over a thousand, and the Wise Men had planned to strike at the holding pen closest to Henesys in a decisive first strike. However, it was only one day before the actual operation that Zeraion had received the call to report to Henesys' high-security district at once.

Zeraion knew little about what the Wise Men kept hidden away safe in the high-security district, but the one thing that he did know was that Ryden's mother, Ceil, was supposed to be protected there. If an urgent summon had been sent to him to report there at once, then that probably meant that there had been a security breach.

Fearing the worst, the hunter doubled his walking pace, trying to reach his destination sooner. In the months that he had been Ryden's squadmate in the Dead Six, he and the fighter had become like brothers; he would hate to see anything bad happen to Ryden, or anyone that Ryden cared about.

As he neared the gate leading into the high-security district, he unsheathed the Abyssal Arund. It couldn't hurt to take precautions. Expecting a scene of utter devastation, he stepped inside, and was sorely disappointed.

The whole district looked untouched. There was absolutely no sign of intrusion, and the only other person in the district besides him was Ryden, who had apparently gotten there before him.

Through the dim moonlight, Zeraion could see that the fighter was down on the ground on one knee, examining something in his hand closely. Curious, Zeraion stepped closer, slinging the Abyssal Arund back over his shoulder.

The fighter was looking at an arrow. Ordinarily Zeraion would have thought his squadmate was simply bored and looking for odd ways to entertain himself, but the hunter dismissed that notion when he saw that the arrow was not made of wood or steel or bronze. Instead, it was fashioned out of a jet-black material, and from the looks of it, it was metallic, glinting in the moonlight.

Ryden looked up as he sensed someone coming up behind him, and he stood as Zeraion walked over.

"Zer, take a look at this." Ryden held out the black arrow for the hunter to take. "I found this embedded in the ground. Kinda odd, isn't it? Arrows aren't made from obsidian, from what I can tell."

Zeraion turned the arrow over in his hands. "You're right, Ryden. There's definitely someone else here besides us."

Ryden furrowed his brow in worry. "I don't think we would have been summoned here unless there _was _a breach in security, Zer… We have to get to my mother's safe house!"

The fighter didn't wait for a response as he immediately took off running, and Zeraion stood staring at the spot where his squadmate had been standing for a few seconds before he managed to respond. He began to sprint in the same direction that Ryden was running.

Several minutes later of running through the streets, they came to the safe house that Ceil was being kept safe in. The outside of the building was totally untouched, but Zeraion didn't think it would be the case for the inside.

He followed Ryden up to the doorstep of the safe house, the fighter already punching in the codes into the control panel to unlock the door. He thumbed the bioscan, and there was a soft beep as the door slid open.

Ryden immediately dashed inside; drawing Alastor from his back holster, ready to fend off anything that would pose a threat to his mother's life…

Except that the house was empty. Everything in the living room was untouched. There was a shuffling of feet coming from the bedroom as Zeraion entered as well, and Ceil walked into the living room.

"Ryden? Zeraion? What are you doing here? Isn't this area supposed to be off-limits?" Ceil asked with a perplexed look on her face.

"We were summoned here, mother. They said there was a probable breach in security. We have to get out of here, right no-" Ryden didn't get any further as a massive explosion suddenly blew out the entire wall from behind him, the wall shattering into a thousand shards of flying timber. The fighter and the hunter were sent tumbling through the air as the explosion lifted them off their feet, but Ceil caught them in mid-air with hastily-conjured magical shields that stopped them from flying any further, and she settled them down onto the ground.

She had suffered little of the explosion, being on the other side of the room, and she helped Ryden and Zeraion to their feet, casting a Heal spell to seal their wounds. The trio then looked to the now-demolished wall to see what had attacked them, and were greeted by the sight of a band of Dark Rangers, with Raveshaw at their lead.

"Your time is up, priestess!" The headhunter said, a sadistic grin spreading across his features. "Take them down!"

The Dark Rangers, seven in total, raised their bows as one, and unleashed a volley of black arrows at them. Ceil raised both her palms, and a bluish-white barrier formed in front of them. The arrows impacted against the barrier without much effect, but as she lowered the shield, the Headhunter blurred forward, suddenly appearing in front of her.

"Too slow." Raveshaw smirked before he delivered a rabbit punch to Ceil's gut. The priestess doubled over from the blow, and Ryden quickly moved to protect his mother, Alastor flaring to life in his hands even as Raveshaw unsheathed his crossbow and leveled it at Ceil's head.

Raveshaw gave Ryden only a cursory glance before he aimed his crossbow at the fighter. "Stay out of this, warrior. If the guild master wills her assassination, then it shall come to pass."

"You'll claim my mother's life when you pry it from my dead, cold hands, hacker!" Ryden snarled before he lunged. Zeraion immediately drew the Abyssal Arund to cover his squadmate, launching an Inferno Strafe at the Dark Rangers standing at the other side of the room. The Dark Rangers scattered as the fireballs streaked towards them.

Ryden lunged forth with a stinging attack, aiming for Raveshaw's heart, but the Headhunter easily dodged the blow, rolling out of the way just as Ryden thrust the blade forward. As the fighter attempted to recover, Raveshaw leapt back onto his feet and swung the butt of his crossbow up, knocking Alastor away, before swinging it back down in a hard smash that cracked against Ryden's chest armor.

The fighter stumbled back from the force of the blow, and he barely brought Alastor up in time to deflect the flurry of arrows that Raveshaw fired at him. He attempted to close in with another Stinger attack, but as he was preparing to charge forth, Raveshaw blew him away with a cry of "Blizzard!"

The spell hit Ryden full on as the fighter was thrown off his feet, the front of his armor freezing over as ice shards embedded themselves in it. Ryden cursed as he landed on his back, and he flipped back up onto his feet only to see Raveshaw grapple Ceil around her neck and choke her into near unconsciousness.

Screaming a denial, Ryden dashed forward, swinging Alastor wildly. Raveshaw smirked and easily deflected the blows with the body of his crossbow even as he maintained his chokehold on the priestess. Ceil struggled feebly as Raveshaw tightened his hold further, and she went limp.

Ryden's eyes widened, and he let out an anguished roar. Zeraion turned his attention from the Dark Rangers back to Ryden, and realized that his squadmate needed help.

"Ryden! Let's do it!" The hunter cried out, dashing towards the fighter. Ryden didn't even turn to look at Zeraion, but he knew exactly what his squadmate had planned - and in these circumstances, it was exactly what they needed.

"Out of my way!" Zeraion shouted as the Dark Rangers moved to block him. He leapt straight up into the air over the Dark Rangers, meeting Ryden as the fighter backflipped away from Raveshaw, and a brilliant spear of lightning flashed to life in his hands.

"_Eternal Session!_" The duo cried out simultaneously. Both fighter and hunter suddenly transformed into blue-white blurs that crackled around the edges with lightning, slashing and stabbing at anything that came within reach as they whirled around the room like twin tornadoes. The Dark Rangers, for all their might, were utterly defeated in the face of such an onslaught, and five of them tried to retreat while the other two were forced to their knees. Raveshaw and his hostage for the most part went untouched, the Headhunter still able to avoid the onslaught with blinding agility that his Dark Rangers did not possess.

But it wasn't over yet. Both blurs suddenly converged on the centre of the room, and they re-materialized into Ryden and Zeraion, the duo standing back to back.

"Is that all you got?" Zeraion asked cockily before they leapt into the air again. Ryden clamped down his left hand onto Zeraion's shoulder as they became airborne, and as one, they shouted, "Surge Cannon!"

Bolts of lightning shot forth from both Alastor and the Abyssal Arund, travelling around the room in searing arcs. A Dark Ranger that did not manage to avoid the bolts was fried to a crisp, his blackened corpse toppling to the ground. Raveshaw barely managed to dodge the electrical assault, twisting and leaping this way and that as lightning bolts flashed around him.

The attack finally abated as the lightning faded away, but there was still more to come.

"Last Sabre!" Ryden cried out as he and Zeraion suddenly appeared next to a surviving Dark Ranger on opposite sides. In a flash, the Dark Ranger's body was riddled with stab wounds; Ryden and Zeraion had been thrusting with sword and spear so rapidly that they had appeared next to a second Dark Ranger and were in the process of turning him into human swiss cheese even before the corpse of the first ranger had begun to topple.

"I'll take 'em!" Ryden suddenly proclaimed, and he and Zeraion reassumed their back-to-back position - except that this time they were in mid-air.

"Master Hearts!" The fighter shouted as a giant blade composed of blue-white energy materialised in his hands. A similar blade, this time of fiery orange, materialised in Zeraion's hands as well, and they both swung their weapons in wide, devastating arcs. The blades were at least fourteen feet long, and whatever they touched, it immediately disintegrated in a flash of light. Another of the Dark Rangers was caught by one of the blades; his scream was brief and fleeting before he disappeared in a cloud of dust.

The blades suddenly winked out of existence, but just as Raveshaw and his three remaining Rangers thought it was over, Ryden and Zeraion caught the duo by surprise with another assault.

"XIII Blades!" This time, an entire array of blades were formed around them, and they spun around the duo in a veritable tornado of blades. The three remaining Dark Rangers were sucked towards the spinning vortex, and their bodies were flayed to pieces before they disintegrated. Raveshaw managed to resist the pull of the vortex by digging his heels into the floor, but strangely enough Ceil had been completely unaffected by the attacks so far.

The blades disappeared, and Ryden and Zeraion began to fall to the ground. Raveshaw was about to drop his guard and launch a counterattack when he realised that both Ryden and Zeraion's weapons were glowing menacingly.

He barely had time to erect a proper defense before the two Dead Six members shouted _"All's End!" _A humongous blast of energy emerged from each weapon, and the two blasts collided against each other, sword versus bow, each force evenly matched and unable to overcome the other.

The sheer power of the two conflicting blasts however, was more than enough to devastate their surroundings. There was a brilliant flash of pure white light as the two forces both reached their climax simultaneously, and they detonated in a tremendous explosion.

By the time the light faded, Ryden and Zeraion stood in the remains of the house, still in a back-to-back position, panting and breathing heavily. Raveshaw was heavily bruised and battered by the attack, and Ceil was still none the worse for the wear. The entire living room had been demolished, destroyed bits of furniture scattered here and there, and the roof was completely missing.

The Headhunter spat out a mouthful of blood before he spoke. "Well, that was fun. I'd never even been _touched_ by any attack that you GDI scum could throw at me, but this one actually managed to hit me. You guys are good."

Before Ryden and Zeraion could respond, Raveshaw withdrew an elixir from his pouch and gulped it down, and half of his injuries were gone, particularly the ones on his legs. "But not good enough. Try and catch me if you can!"

The Headhunter suddenly leapt into the air, still hanging on to Ceil in the chokehold, away from the duo in the wrecked house and landing in the street outside. Ryden swore and gave chase, Zeraion following close behind him.

The pursuit quickly escalated from a chase throughout the streets to a chase above the rooftops. Raveshaw leapt from roof to roof, occasionally twisting around in mid-air to fire a snapshot at Ryden or Zeraion before landing on his feet, perfectly balanced, and leaping to another rooftop an instant later. Ryden and Zeraion dodged the arrows as best as they could, trying to keep themselves from plummeting to the streets below while continuing to give chase to the fleeing Headhunter.

A minute later Zeraion finally managed to catch up with Raveshaw, and his Thunder Spear flashed to life in his hands as he prepared to deck the Headhunter. Ryden was only one rooftop behind, but just as Zeraion thrust the shaft of his spear forward, a black blur slammed straight into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backwards, straight towards Ryden.

The fighter saw his squadmate incoming, and swore in surprise before he ducked to avoid Zeraion. The hunter soared above Ryden's head and came to a crashing stop against a chimney, collapsing to the rooftop as he choked and coughed.

Ryden began to move towards his fallen squadmate, but Zeraion held up a hand. "Leave me! I'll be all right! Raveshaw's got your mother, you have to give chase! I'll catch up when I can." The hunter said, clutching at his winded chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Ryden stepped back and gave his squadmate a brief nod before tossing him a medkit. Spinning on his heel, Ryden leapt off the rooftop and continued his pursuit of Raveshaw.

Wincing, Zeraion reached out for the medkit, but was denied the chance to drink the restorative potions inside when a booted foot suddenly kicked the medkit away. Looking up, he saw a cloaked figure standing over him in the moonlight, its black hood obscuring its features.

This stranger was probably another member of Necropolis that was in league with Raveshaw, and was also probably the black blur that had nearly cracked his sternum. No matter, if it was just a regular Necropolis grunt then Zeraion could handle him no problem, even with his winded chest.

With a strangled cry, Zeraion lunged forward as his bruised ribs protested against the sudden movement, his right arm coming up in a wide arc as he swung his Thunder Spear towards the cloaked figure.

The figure leapt backwards the moment Zeraion's spear neared him, and a bow that glowed with an immaculate, silver sheen appeared in his hands, an arrow nocked and the bow levelled at Zeraion. His mind flying on adrenaline, Zeraion dimly registered the weapon as the Dragon Shinebow before he lunged forward with the spear again. Perhaps this could turn out to be more difficult than he expected...

"_Blandir Cadena!_" The hunter yelled out, the Thunder Spear morphing into an electric haze of lightning-fast pierces and slashes as the mana flowed into his arms, giving him the strength he needed for the attack. But if Zeraion's attacks were as fast as lightning, the figure's response was as quick as thought. It slipped all of his strikes almost effortlessly, and backflipped to another nearby rooftop just as Zeraion delivered his combo finisher.

Cursing, Zeraion leapt after his quarry, yelling "Astatos!" There was a burst of blue-white lightning from the floor as Zeraion plunged the head of his Thunder Spear into the rooftop that his target had leapt onto, but the figure had already jumped away to another rooftop.

Zeraion resisted the temptation to swear up a storm as his frustration began to grow, and he decided that he would hunt down this elusive stranger no matter what. He gave chase to the cloaked figure, swinging his Thunder Spear in large, wide slashes and jabbing with long, precise thrusts, but somehow the figure always managed to give his attacks the slip, dodging out of the way at the last moment and always with only millimetres to spare. Zeraion knew that the stranger's true capabilities were far exceeding what he saw now, and the knowledge that the stranger was only toying with him spurred the hunter on to greater fury.

Unable to take it anymore, Zeraion decided to make an attempt to end the chase quickly, and rose his Thunder Spear high above his head just as he leapt one last rooftop in an attempt to catch up with his quarry.

"_Tierra Choque!_" The hunter roared as he slammed the entire body of his Thunder Spear against the floor in a giant two-handed blow. The resulting shockwave of lightning exploded outwards and utterly demolished the roof that he was standing on, but it also had sufficient force to knock off-balance the cloaked figure, sending him tumbling to the ground from mid-jump.

Zeraion kick-jumped off a falling piece of the roof he had destroyed and flew straight up into the air, immediately spotting his fallen quarry. The cloaked figure had managed to land on its feet, and was in the process of attempting to regain its balance.

Zeraion denied the figure that chance. With a mighty cry, he descended upon the stranger with all his righteous fury, bringing down the shaft of his Thunder Spear in a hammer blow that would cleave his opponent in half...

And it would have, but just as the shaft of lightning neared his opponent, the figure raised both its hands towards him, and stopped his attack cold as though the hunter had struck an invisible barrier. The ground shockwaved outwards from beneath them as the figure absorbed the force of Zeraion's hammer blow, and a glowing black sword materialised in the space between their faces, its blade intercepting Zeraion's spear and only millimetres from his nose.

Zeraion gasped as he recognised the blade, but he just couldn't believe it. There was only one person he knew of who could summon a Devil's Claymore, and as he looked towards the figure's face, his worst fears were confirmed.

The impact of his attack had blown the figure's hood backwards, and Zeraion's eyes widened in horror as he recognised whose face was hidden beneath that hood.

"It's been a long time... Phoenix." Gault Isentryx murmured as he slowly looked up and bored into Zeraion's eyes with his.

* * *

Raveshaw was beginning to tire of this game of cat and mouse. The son of Dracon had been persistently chasing after him for several minutes now, and the Headhunter had leapt across almost the entire length of Henesys' high-security district, and he was sooner or later going to be cornered. Not that it mattered if he did, he could easily defeat Ryden in a one-on-one match, but the burden of his hostage limited his capabilities somewhat. 

Ceil struggled feebly in his grip, and Raveshaw simply tightened his hold on her neck. The priestess' movements ceased after a moment as she lapsed back into unconsciousness, and Raveshaw finally coasted to a stop above the rooftop of a larger-than-average house. He glanced backwards, and could already see Ryden leaping towards him, Alastor in his right hand and the Force Edge in his left.

Raveshaw holstered his crossbow and pulled out a hand-crossbow from his thigh holster, pressing its business end against Ceil's temple just as Ryden landed on the same rooftop as him.

"You're more persistent than I thought, son of Dracon," Raveshaw taunted. "How much longer are you going to try to prevent the inevitable?"

"For as long as I live, hackers like you will never know a moment of peace. Now release my mother!" Ryden roared, Alastor crackling with lightning in his grip. The Force Edge had also begun to take on a sinister red glow, and Raveshaw realised that it may be more prudent to remove Ryden from the picture first before he assassinated Ceil.

"Very well, you have chosen your fate. You interfered with the guild master's will, and for that, you shall pay." The Headhunter shoved the unconscious priestess to the side, and drew out another hand-crossbow, both one-handed weapons swirling with black tendrils of energy as he aimed them both at Ryden.

"Rest In Peace!" Raveshaw commanded as he pulled the triggers of both his weapons. A stream of black arrows shot forth from the barrel of each of his weapons, each aimed with deadly accuracy and streaking straight towards the various vital points of Ryden's body that would instantly kill the fighter the moment they touched him.

But none of them came even close to making contact with his skin. Ryden raised both blades in front of him just as Raveshaw commenced his attack, and he shouted, "Violent Shooting Star!"

Ryden's arms blurred as he thrust forward both swords in a sudden burst of power, stabbing at each arrow and shredding them with his blades with blinding speed and accuracy. Raveshaw swore and continued firing his crossbows in an attempt to overwhelm the son of Dracon, but Ryden's attack was too fast for even Raveshaw's crossbows to match up to.

Charging up energy inside his crossbows for a last-ditch shot, Raveshaw aimed both weapons at Ryden and shouted, "Quattro Firing!"

Four arrows shot forth from both crossbows simultanouesly, each entwined with one another so they travelled as one projectile, streaking straight towards Ryden as he continued stabbing at the last of Raveshaw's individual arrows.

At the last possible moment, Ryden let out a mighty cry and thrust Alastor forward to meet Raveshaw's final shot. There was a massive explosion of energy as the two attacks collided, and Ryden was nearly thrown backwards from the force of the impact.

Raveshaw smirked as he watched the explosion consume Ryden, and he began to walk over to pick up Ceil. He hoisted the unconscious priestess over his shoulder and was about to jump to another rooftop when a mighty roar stopped him in his tracks.

Spinning around, he watched in shock as Ryden lunged at him from the behind the smokescreen, wisps of smoke trailing from behind his armour. The Force Edge was holstered across his back, Alastor was cocked high over his head, blazing with lightning, and he clutched Spiral in one hand, aiming the shotgun-crossbow at the Headhunter.

Eyes widening in surprise, Raveshaw leapt backwards just in time to avoid the burst of shrapnel that shredded the floor beneath him as Ryden fired Spiral, the warrior already recocking the crossbow for a second shot.

Landing on a nearby rooftop, Raveshaw regained his wits and narrowed his eyes as he watched Ryden glower at him briefly before he started at him again.

He was _really_ tiring of this game of cat and mouse.

* * *

Zeraion's shock at seeing Gault gave the Dark Ranger more than enough time to deliver a powerful two-handed sweep that sent the hunter flying. Crying out more in surprise than pain, Zeraion hurtled through the air for a moment before crashing to a stop against the ground. He scrambled back onto his feet, but Gault hadn't taken a step towards him. 

"The power of the archers is with you, Phoenix," Gault began, the Devil's Claymore disappearing from his grasp. "But you are not a Ranger yet."

_True, I'm not a Ranger._ Zeraion thought to himself. _But that doesn't mean I have to be one to beat you!_

Stepping forward, he resummoned his Thunder Spear, the shaft of lightning igniting in his grasp as he levelled it at Gault.

Isentryx simply raised a hand, and the Devil's Claymore materialised once again. Zeraion gave Gault only a moment's notice before he lunged.

Gault easily deflected the simple strike, parrying aside Zeraion's blow and forcing the hunter back. Zeraion backpedalled for two steps before he started forward again, swinging his spear down in a two-handed strike. Gault's blade came up, stopping the attack cold, and he forced Phoenix back again, the hunter stumbling and falling down onto his rear as he lost his balance.

Zeraion regained it in a flash however, and he picked himself up, keeping his spear levelled at Gault with one hand as he pushed himself back up with the other.

Gault simply waited patiently, the Devil's Claymore pulsing with unholy energy in his grasp. Screaming, Zeraion attacked again, slashing and stabbing at the Dark Ranger with his spear several times in a flash. Isentryx's sword intercepted all the blows with almost effortless power, parrying aside the strikes with minimal work. The moment Zeraion's attacks began to falter as the hunter fell prey to exhaustion, Gault moved on to the offensive. Zeraion suddenly found himself having to defend as Gault slashed at him in a one-handed sweep, and the shaft of his Thunder Spear barely blocked the attack.

Parrying, Zeraion attempted to strike again, but Gault again blocked all of his blows and sent the hunter reeling backwards as he forced him away.

"You have learned much since I last saw you, Phoenix." Gault commented as he raised a hand towards Zeraion, the Devil's Claymore held loosely at his side.

"You'll find that I'm full of surprises, Gault." Phoenix muttered before he lunged again.

But Zeraion was careless in his attack this time, and the force behind Gault's successive parries were enough to jangle his arm all the way down to his shoulder, and pain exploded in his joint as it nearly dislocated. The Thunder Spear disappeared as Zeraion's mental concentration faltered, and the hunter suddenly found himself defenseless as Gault advanced.

Gault slashed downwards at Phoenix again, and the hunter rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the blow, tumbling and rolling on the ground as he sought to get as far away from Gault as possible.

He scrambled back onto his feet a moment later, but Gault had closed the distance between them by then, and stood only a few steps away, pointing the Devil's Claymore threateningly at him.

"Your destiny lies with me, Phoenix." Gault stated. "Athena knew this to be true."

"No!" Zeraion cried out in denial. He slowly began to back away form Gault, taking small steps backwards until he found himself backed up against a stone wall; he had been cornered against the side of a house. He cursed under his breath and glanced backwards briefly to look for a way out, but it was a grave mistake.

Zeraion's momentary distraction was all Gault needed; he thrust out a palm, and an invisible hammer suddenly slammed into Zeraion's chest, knocking him backwards and propelling him through the wall. The stone buckled where the hunter hit it, and Phoenix tumbled to the floor through the hole he had made, fighting to stay conscious.

"All too easy." Gault muttered as he stepped through the dust cloud Zeraion's crash had kicked up. "Perhaps you are not as strong as the guild master thought."

The Dark Ranger stepped through the wreckage of the wall and into the room. Surprisingly, there was no sign of Zeraion. He was about to begin searching the room when he realized that the hunter was waiting right above him, hanging from a chandelier.

"Impressive." Gault muttered to himself.

Phoenix's Thunder Spear flashed to life once again as he took a swing at Gault, but Isentryx easily ducked under the blow and retaliated, the Devil's Claymore slicing through the air and nearly taking off Zeraion's outstretched arm. The hunter reared back as the abyssal blade neared him, and he climbed further up the chandelier like an oversized monkey in an attempt to escape any further blows.

"Most impressive." Isentryx muttered again before he threw the Devil's Claymore at Zeraion. The hunter leapt off the chandelier just in time as the demonic sword sliced through the space he had vacated a split-second ago, instead cutting through the chains that connected the chandelier to the ceiling. Both the hunter and the chandelier came crashing to the floor, and Gault advanced as Zeraion landed on his feet.

"Astatos!" Zeraion shouted, thrusting his Thunder Spear into the floor. Lightning exploded upwards, coupled with the many shards of broken glass from the chandelier. Gault cried out in startlement as the attack managed to penetrate his defenses, but he readily endured the damage dealt and recovered quickly, reaclling his sword and bringing it up just in time to guard against a slash of Zeraion's spear.

"Athena has taught you well, Phoenix." Gault commented. "You have controlled your fear." The Dark Ranger disengaged his blade from Zeraion's weapon before he lunged, and Zeraion barely managed to turn aside his blows, keeping the Devil's Claymore at bay with a block that was weakening by the moment.

Gault continued, "Now, release your anger! Only your _hatred_ can destroy me!" The Dark Ranger continued his assault, and Zeraion found himself nearly overwhelmed by Gault's ferocity.

But the hunter knew what Gault was trying to do, and he knew that he couldn't listen to Gault. He could draw on his anger and rage and convert it into a weapon, drawing strength that he could use to defeat Gault, but if he did he would also be lowering himself down to Gault's level, degenerating into an animalistic, violent individual who was no better than the monsters who infested the dungeons.

Zeraion had sworn to Athena and himself that he would never stoop down to Gault's level, so he restrained himself from tapping into the vast power reserves that his anger would grant him. Instead, he decided it was time to alter tactics, and he leapt into the air, flipping over Gault's head and landing behind him.

Surprised, the Dark Ranger whipped around and was barely able to defend himself from Phoenix' attacks as the hunter bore down upon him with renewed determination. Forcing back the Dark Ranger step by step, Zeraion drove Gault towards the stairs of the house, and up into the second floor.

Stepping up the tempo of his assault, Zeraion forced Isentryx backwards until they reached the end of the second floor's hallway, and he lashed out with a kick that caught Gault straight in the centre of his chest. The Dark Ranger, unprepared for the blow, was thrown backwards, hurtling through the glass window behind him and crashing through the roof of a large shed that was behind the house. Zeraion stared down at the hole Gault had made in the small building for a moment before he leapt through the hole after the Dark Ranger.

He was going to finish this fight, one way or another.

* * *

The chase across the rooftops continued, but this time the odds were beginning to tilt in Ryden's favour. The fighter was still going strong, leaping from roof to roof like a ninja with undiminished strength, while Raveshaw was tiring fast, having to endure the burden of the priestess, and his pace was beginning to flag. He briefly wondered why he hadn't even tried to kill the priestess himself in the first place. 

Then he remembered why; the guild master had demanded that he be the one to personally take the life of Ceil, and who was Raveshaw to interfere with the wishes of his lord?

But at the rate he was going, he wouldn't even be able to get the priestess to his lord; Ryden was hot on his heels, and closing in fast. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Raveshaw decided that it was time to implement those desperate measures.

_Lord, I regret having to summon you in this manner, but the son of Dracon is becoming problematic. _Raveshaw called out with his mind. It was less than a second later before voice as deep as the crashing ocean responded.

_I do not blame you, Raveshaw. This was expected; I shall be there shortly. Hold off the son of Dracon until then._

The imposing presence in his mind that was the guild master receded, and Raveshaw was once more alone, attempting to keep himself from being cut apart by Ryden.

_Easier said than done, lord. Now it's all I can do not to be overwhelmed. _Raveshaw thought to himself before he felt something slice across his back.

Biting back a cry of pain, he whirled around to see Ryden right behind him, Alastor's blade trailing blood as the son of Dracon reared back for another strike. Desperate, Raveshaw shoved the barrel of his crossbow in Ryden's general direction and snapped off a wild shot. The Headhunter's luck held up; the shot slammed against Ryden's chest armour full on, and though the enchanted plates protected the fighter from the worst of the damage, the shot still had sufficient force behind it to knock Ryden backwards.

Spinning end over end, Ryden hurtled to the streets below as he struggled to regain his balance, and he barely managed to do so in time. He righted himself in midair, only seconds from slamming into the ground, and instead skidded across the ground as he landed, gouging twin deep tracks in the stone path as he ground to a halt.

Looking upwards, he saw Raveshaw landing on another rooftop, bending down and gasping for air. The headhunter was obviously exhausted, but only when Ryden glanced at his back did he realise the extent of the damage he had inflicted with that lucky swipe.

There was a great gash across Raveshaw's back where Alastor had struck, and the flesh was seared and charred. Blood flowed freely from the wound, and Raveshaw was practically dripping with it. Ryden saw the headhunter reach into a pouch and withdraw a flask of clear liquid that was definitely not water.

Ryden leapt into the air and back onto the rooftop just as Raveshaw poured the contents of the flask over the wound, and he watched in awe as the wound began to clsoe up with a giant sucking sound, until there was no sign of Ryden having struck the headhunter at all, besides the giant slash mark that Ryden had left in Raveshaw's armour. The headhunter straightened, no longer panting, and he looked straight at Ryden with an expression that bore no fatigue.

Raveshaw was feeling as good as new, and he set the priestess down beside him, beckoning the fighter forward with one finger. That special elixer he had consumed, the very last one he had with him, had allowed him to recover several day's worth of rest in a matter of seconds, and would also probably allow to survive fighting the son of Dracon long enough for the guild master to get here. He only hoped that the gamble he took was worth the risk.

Ryden didn't hesitate responding to the challenge; he lunged forward with a Stinger attack, and Raveshaw turned it aside as easily as he did back in the safe house. He slammed the butt of his crossbow into Ryden's stomach as the warrior tried to recover, and Ryden doubled backwards, winded. Following up his attack, Raveshaw smashed his crossbow across Ryden's face, loosening several of Ryden's teeth in the process, and brought it back up to his shoulder, aiming a quick snapshot at Ryden's midsection.

The arrow shot forth from the crossbow, streaking straight towards Ryden's chest, and the fighter barely drew the Force Edge in time to deflect it. Nearly falling to his knees, Ryden thrust both blades into the ground to keep himself from toppling over. His head was still pounding from the sock across the face, and several of his teeth felt loose. He shook his head to clear it, and he raised both blades above his head, preparing to charge. He called upon his mana reserves, and strength flowed back into him as his regeneration accelerated briefly, his arms charged with energy as he gathered his strength for his attack.

Raveshaw was more than ready to meet his attack, but whatever defenses he had erected were overwhelmed anyway by Ryden's renewed assault. "Hexen Dropper!" The fighter roared, slashing mercilessly with both swords at blinding speeds. Raveshaw's crossbow was battered out of the way as the first few slashes struck, and the rest slammed into him with undiminished fury. The front of his armor was rent apart by the force of the blows, and the headhunter was sent flying backwards as Ryden finished his attack with a large cross-slash with both swords.

Raveshaw plummeted backwards down to the streets, and Ryden leapt down after him. The headhunter scrambled back onto his feet as Ryden soared above him, and he had only begun to pick up his crossbow when Ryden twisted around in mid-air, until he was oriented directly upside down. Ebony and Ivory appeared on his hands, and the fighter shouted, "Rain Storm!"

Spinning rapidly while still upside down, Ryden fired off a hell storm of throwing stars, sending them raining down on the lone headhunter in a virtual torrent of flying steel. Raveshaw knew of only one skill that could even hope to match up to this kind of rate of fire, so he oriented his crossbow directly upwards and responded with a cry of "Covering Fire!"

A seemingly equal hell storm of arrows exploded outwards from his crossbow, and they streaked upwards to meet Ryden's assault. Arrows met stars in mid-air, but the two conflicting barrages were evenly matched, and neither party came to harm as the attacks ended. Ryden landed nimbly on his feet, holstering the Force Edge across his back just as Raveshaw was recocking his crossbow, and the fighter lunged forward, not letting up on his onslaught.

Raveshaw immediately pointed the crossbow at the fighter and shouted, "Blizzard!"

A small glacier of ice erupted from the ground as Raveshaw unleashed the spell, but Ryden easily leapt over it, still bearing down on Raveshaw.

Not having time to aim properly, Raveshaw simply pointed the crossbow in Ryden's general direction again and shouted, "Covering Fire!"

The same torrent of arrows shot forth, but this barrage was met with a cry of, "Aerial Rave!" Ryden delivered a series of lightning-fast mid-air slashes with Alastor that batted aside a majority of the arrows, and whatever few projectiles that managed to make it past his flurry were readily stopped by his armour. Roaring with rage, he descended upon Raveshaw with all of his righteous fury.

"Helm Breaker!" The fighter shouted, slamming the blade down upon the headhunter. Raveshaw barely managed to block it with the body of his crossbow, and he shoved Ryden away before leaping back up onto the rooftop that he had been so unceremoniously shoved off a few moments ago. Thankfully, the priestess was still lying there, unconscious, and Raveshaw rolled to the side just in time to avoid a shotgun blast from Spiral.

He whirled around and saw Ryden already recocking the shotgun-crossbow for another shot. Not wanting to prolong the fight any longer, Raveshaw snatched up Ciel's limp body from the ground and levelled the barrel of his crosbow against her temple.

"If you even budge the trigger of that weapon of yours an inch, the priestess gets it." Raveshaw growled threateningly. Ryden was practically seething with rage as his index finger impotently twitched against the trigger of his weapon, but he did not dare fire; Raveshaw's threat aside, even if Ryden fired now, he would risk hitting his mother as well. Spiral's shotgun spread saw to that.

The two stood there for several moments, locked in a Mexican standoff, neither party making a move.

The night sky began to darken even further as time passed, and grey clouds swarmed across the sky, blotting out the stars from view. Soon, a heavy rain began to fall, the wind howling in their ears. Lightning flashed across the sky, and Ryden finally looked upwards as he saw group of lightning bolts congregate together, forming a portal of sorts.

Mouth agape, he lowered Spiral in awe, staring at the formation. The lightning portal flashed for several times before a dazzling explosion of light erupted from it. Ryden immediately covered his eyes with his arms, lest he be blinded by the light, and when his vision had finally cleared, he lowered his arms, only to be greeted by a sight unlike anything he had seen before.

High above Raveshaw, in the sky, floated three stationary eyes in a triangle formation that glowed a sinister blood-red. Ryden didn't know what it was, but even from here he could sense the entity's god-like power that made his own prowess seem minute in comparison, and he didn't need anyone to tell him that the entity wasn't on his side.

_Oh,_ He thought to himself. _Oh, this is bad._

* * *

Zeraion hurtled through the hole in the shed's ceiling feet-first, and he landed deftly on both feet. Immediately he thrust out his Thunder Spear, ready to meet Gault if the Dark Ranger were to come charging out at him, but only utter blackness greeted him. Silence reigned around him, save for the faint crackling of his spear. The lights in the shed were not operational, and Zeraion was completely surrounded by darkness. 

His Thunder Spear provided illumination for only a few feet in front of him, and in the faint blue light that his weapon generated, Zeraion could see no hint that Gault had even crashed through here. He closed his eyes attempted to reach out with his senses as Ryden had taught him to so as to detect the auras of other living beings around him, but the only living thing in this room that he sensed was himself.

Odd. Had Gault managed to effect an escape that quickly? Zeraion doubted so, and he began to take a step forward to investigate his surroundings more closely.

He hadn't budged his foot more than an inch before a flicker in the background caught his eye. Black on black, like a sheen of oil slithering over darkness...

Zeraion's mind barely managed to comprehend what was going on in time, and he raised his Thunder Spear in a blocking motion just before Gault's Devil's Claymore could chop his head off. The shaft of lightning barely managed to keep the abyssal blade at bay, but Gault furiously shoved Zeraion's weapon aside in a two-handed parry and continued attacking.

Taken by surprise, it was all Zeraion could do not to be overwhelmed as the Dark Ranger pressed on with his assault relentlessly. He quickly backpedalled, attempting to open up some distance between him and his opponent, but Gault was as quick as he was ruthless. For every step that Zeraion took backwards, Gault reciprocated with a step forward, and Zeraion found himself constantly under assault. It was not long before the exhausted hunter succumbed, and Gault sent Zeraion flying through the roof with a viscous uppercut the moment the hunter stooped over with exhaustion, his Thunder Spear flickering out of existence.

The hunter's head snapped backwards as the punch connected, droplets of perspiration flying everywhere as Gault's fist made contact with Zeraion's face. Completely disoriented by the blow, with no idea which way was up or down, Phoenix didn't even realise he had crashed through the shed's roof as well as the second-floor window of the adjacent house until his body had hit the floor.

Laying there amongst the broken glass and in a slowly spreading pool of blood, gasping for air as he waited for Gault to leap up after him, Zeraion tried to force his battered body to rise, but he just couldn't. Despair seized him. Pain continued to assault him from every direction as his numerous injuries began to take their toll on him. Every bone in his body ached, and his muscles felt like they had been stretched beyond their breaking points. He was sure that he had cracked his skull from that crash through the roof, and he was positive that he could hear his brain sloshing around the insides of his cranium. All that had kept him together during his fight with Gault previously was his conditioning as a GDI commando of the Dead Six and his characteristic stubborn refusal to lose. But now, faced with such impossible odds, the young hunter's unshakeable resolve got its first real beating.

For the first time in his life, Zeraion Phoenix was seized with the belief that he was going to die.

A last thought echoed throughout his mind.

_I need your help... Hear me... Grace..._

And everything went black.

* * *

The young ice mage woke up with a gasp, her robes soaked with perspiration. Quickly sitting up, she pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to come to terms with what she had just experienced. Most of it had been a blur, with only a few distinct bursts of clarity in which she could see what was happening, but from what she had seen, she could have sworn that she had just had a glimpse into Zeraion Phoenix's mind. 

But with that thought also came a powerful imperative, one that seized her in an iron grip and had her thinking of nothing else.

Grace Raizen bolted out of her bed and seized her wand from her desk, pocketing it and dashing out of her general's quarters with only one thought in her mind: Zeraion Phoenix was in grave danger.

She threw her door open with a loud bang, and she could hear startled murmurs from the adjoining quarters as their occupants were rudely awakened. A second later, Joseph Stalrigarde emerged from the door across from hers, the back of his hair stuck up in an extreme case of bed-head, but his eyes were wide open and alert.

"What the hell... Grace, it's two in the morning! What the hell are you doing up?" Stalrigarde asked. His query was followed up by Rathias Gardner as he too emerged from his quarters, hints of a five o'clock shadow growing on his face and remnants of sleep in his eyes.

Not waiting for Rathias to finish speaking, Grace held up a hand. "No time for questions, Gardner. Phoenix is in danger. I have to go help him."

She pushed past the puzzled duo without a word, and didn't even slow down even as Keiga Seles emerged from his quarters as well, rippling muscles all exposed as he opened his door bleary-eyed and clad only in a pair of boxers.

(A/N: No dirty thoughts! I just figured it'd be humorous if we showed that even generals have odd habits.)

"Whuz goin on?" The Dark Knight muttered as though he was half-dead, not even realising he was wearing only his underwear. Grace rushed past him without a second glance, not even pausing to explain.

Seles looked towards Stalrigarde and Gardner for an explanation, but their shocked expressions finally managed to get him to look down at himself. Less than a millisecond later, his door was slammed shut.

* * *

The rushing of air past Zeraion's face roused him to the outer fringes of consciousness. He hadn't recovered enough to completely register what was happening, but he acted with desperate reflex. 

He twisted around and blindly lashed out with his fists. He had absolutely no idea which way he was punching, and no idea where he was or what was happening. His fists made contact with something, and a roar of disapproval rewarded his efforts. A moment later Zeraion felt something slash across his forearm.

Crying out in pain, Zeraion cradled the injured limb closer to himself, trying to figure out what was going on. Forcing his eyes open, he saw his legs dangling in empty air, several yards above the streets of Henesys. Yelling in surprise, he attempted to back away, only to realise that he was being suspended in mid-air. The streets were hurtling past his vision as though he were flying, and he finally registered that somebody was holding him up by the collar of his uniform.

Looking upwards, he stared straight into the visage of Gault Isentryx. True to Zeraion's suspicions, the Dark Ranger had the Hunter suspended in mid-air, keeping Zeraion from plummeting to the ground only with a solid grip on the hunter's collar. Isentryx was astride a giant black raven, and they flew several stories above the streets of Henesys.

Gault's face twisted with sadistic glee as he saw that Zeraion had finally regained consciousness, and his mouth split into a cruel grin as the hunter involuntarily cried out in terror when Gault slightly loosened his grip on Zeraion's collar. He had purposely waited for Phoenix to regain consciousness before continuing battering the poor hunter; that way he would get the most enjoyment out of beating the tar out of his most hated enemy before handing him over to his guild master.

He pulled the raven into a sharp dive that sent them nearly straight towards the ground. Just as he was mere feet from the nearest rooftop he pulled sharply out of the dive, but Zeraion had no such luck of following Gault out of the dive.

The dark ranger released his hold on Phoenix's collar the moment they were out of the dive, and Zeraion hurtled straight towards the side of the house. If it had been glass he could have smashed through and attempted to escape inside, but instead he impacted with solid brick and mortar, embedding the left side of his body in the side of the house.

Groaning in pain, Zeraion tried to extricate himself, but Gault swooped down upon him before he had even begun to move. Unrelenting, the dark ranger plucked Zeraion from the hole he had made and smashed him straight into the side of another building. Zeraion screamed in agony as he felt several of his ribs crack, and Gault unmercifully flung Zeraion away from him and into the air, sending the hunter hurtling down onto the streets below.

Zeraion skidded across the ground as he landed, coughing up blood as he desperately tried to get to his feet. Barely managing to do so in time, his Thunder Spear flared to life weakly in his hands as he brought it up to block Gault's subsequent attack, the Dark Ranger descending upon the lone hunter with his full fury.

Gault rained down blow after blow upon Zeraion, and the young hunter was almos instantly beaten into submission under the force of Isentryx's assault. Zeraion attempted to block and avoid what blows he could, but Gault was simply too strong for him. With a powerful shove, Gault pushed Zeraion to the ground and levelled the point of his Devil's Claymore his throat.

"You are beaten," Gault declared. "It is useless to resist! Don't let yourself be destroyed as Rathias himself nearly did!"

Zeraion briefly wondered what Gault meant by that before he desperately shoved aside the point of Gault's sword with his spear, taking the Dark Ranger by surprise. Bolting back onto his feet, Zeraion attempted to go on the offensive, but he was too weak to do so. Isentryx easily overpowered his attempts and laughed contemptiously. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Zeraion scored a lucky hit on Gault's shoulder; the Dark Ranger's expression immediately morphed from contempt to rage, and Gault roared as he furiously attacked the hunter.

Zeraion tried his best to protect himself, but he was pounded to the ground within moments. His Thunder Spear fizzled out of existence as mental exhaustion took its toll on his mind, and he collapsed onto his knees, unable to stand any longer. Looking up, he found himself back at square one, with the tip of the Devil's Claymore at his throat.

"There is no escape." Gault growled. "Don't make me destroy you."

Wincing, Zeraion attempted to pull back, but all he managed to do was fall onto his back as he slowly inched away from Gault, holding his injured arm close to his chest.

"Phoenix, you do not yet realise your importance. You have only begun to discover your power." Gault began to speak. "Join me, and I will complete your training! With our combined strength, we can _end_ this destructive conflict, and bring order to Bera!"

Zeraion knew what 'order' meant to people like Isentryx, though; the extermination of all non-hackers, and the building of a new world order based on hacking that would eventually rip apart the very fabric of their reality. No way in hell was he going over to that side.

"I'll never join you!" The hunter cried out through gritted teeth, crawling away from the Dark Ranger on his back.

"If only you knew the power that Necropolis can grant you." Gault sighed melancholily. "You are a fool to reject that power. We have become like gods, Phoenix; it is our birthright. We are the descendants of the creators of this world, and as such, do you not believe that we should rule it?"

Before Zeraion could respond, a familiar voice called out to him, "Don't listen to him, Phoenix!"

_That voice... Grace?_ Zeraion twisted around, trying to get a better view, and was rewarded with the sight of the mage hurtling straight over him, surrounded by lightning as she barreled straight towards Gault.

The dark ranger's eyes widened in surprise momentarily before Grace slammed straight into him. Caught totally by surprise, Isentryx was sent flying backwards along with Raizen as she continued to pump electricity through his body. Immobilised by the immense currents that were ravaging his body, Gault could only spasm uncontrollably as lightning continued to arc across his flesh, scorching his armor and searing his skin.

Finally, Grace abated her assault, and shoved Gault away from her with a hard kick to his chest. The dark ranger managed to recover his balance by the skin of his teeth and landed on his feet, but teetered unsteadily even as he stood on both legs.

Grace quickly ran back to Zeraion and helped him to his feet. The mere sight of her was enough to send strength flowing back into his body, and Phoenix forced himself back up with her help.

Recovering from Grace's assault, Gault dismissed his Devil's Claymore with a wave of his hand. "Don't think this is over, Phoenix." The dark ranger growled. "You were lucky this time, but don't expect to survive the next."

Before either Grace or Zeraion could respond, Gault Isentryx wrapped his cloak around himself, and disappeared in a flash of darkness.

Sighing in relief, Grace relaxed her hold on Zeraion and slowly lowered him to the ground. She quickly examined the extent of his injuries, and winced when she realised how badly wounded the hunter was. Zeraion was barely conscious as he was, now that Gault was gone, and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to remain awake.

"He's gone... isn't he?" Phoenix whispered, too tired to speak aloud. Grace nodded, and laid the hunter down onto his back.

"Yes, he's gone, Zeraion. It's over. You're going to be all right." She began to reach out with her mind to contact Grendel for a medevac, but Zeraion seized her wrist with such fervor that her concentration was jolted.

"Ryden... you have to help him. He's gone to save his mother alone... he can't do it... by himself..." Zeraion's head rolled backwards as he finally lost consciousness, and his body went limp.

Grace cursed under her breath, and began to check her robes to see if she had a Resurrection Elixir with her. Before she could begin however, portals opened up around her, and three figures emerged from them.

She quickly got to her feet, thinking Gault had sent for Necropolis reinforcements, but she relaxed when she saw the familiar visages of Rathias Gardner, Joseph Stalrigarde and Keiga Seles approach her in the moonlight.

"Is he all right?" Stalrigarde asked as he exited from his portal and strode towards the limp body of Zeraion Phoenix.

"He's unconscious, but badly injured." Grace replied. "We need somebody to bring him back to HQ so that Ascion can work on him."

"I'll do it." Rathias immediately volunteered. "I can get there fastest." The Bowmaster quickly summoned a Fire Phoenix and hoisted Zeraion's limp body over his shoulder before clambering onto the immolated avian. As he took off in a rush of flames, Joe and Keiga both looked to Grace for instructions.

"Phoenix said that the son of Dracon has gone on to rescue his mother by himself. I don't know what he means by that, but I assume there's been a security breach, and Ceil has been taken hostage." Grace instructed. "I'll head to the safe house first. Seles, Stalrigarde, you two go and search the district for Ryden, and assist him if..."

Before the mage could get any further, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, and dark clouds began to swarm. Rain began to pour down soon after, soaking the three generals. In the distance, a trio of red eyes materialised in the sky from a congregation of lightning bolts, and even though they sensed that the entity's attention was not focused on them, Grace could not help but give a brief cry of surprise.

The trio stood in silence for a moment in the rain before Joe spoke up. "Well... I guess we don't need to search the district for Ryden anymore."

* * *

Bloodied and broken, Ryden's limp body was flung away from Raveshaw as the headhunter released another punishing shot at the fighter, the bolt impacting dead centre in his chest and splintering as it hit, creating an almost explosive energy dump. His enchanted armour barely held up against the attack, but Ryden felt as though several of his ribs had been either bruised of broken by the shot. 

Blood streaming from his mouth and from several other wounds he had sustained, Ryden pushed himself back onto his feet, groaning in pain. Ever since that entity had made its appearance, Raveshaw's power seemed to have increased tenfold. Try as Ryden might, he could not overcome the strengthened headhunter, and now all he had to show for his efforts were a badly damaged suit of armour and several dozens wounds in places all over his body. He hadn't even managed to _touch_ Raveshaw so far.

On the other side of the street, Raveshaw hefted his crossbow at Ryden again, shards of ice gathering at the barrel of his crossbow. Ryden winced as his wounds protested when he hefted Alastor again, preparing to meet the headhunter's attack.

"Blizzard... Eruption!" Raveshaw shouted, releasing his attack. A gargantuan glacier of ice erupted from the ground as Raveshaw pulled the trigger, and it raced towards Ryden like a charging bull.

"Distortion Drive!" Ryden responded, pointing Alastor's tip straight at the incoming glacier. The purple beam of energy exploded outwards from the blade, and it met Raveshaw's head-on. The two spells collided against each other, neutralising one another in a massive explosion.

Gasping for air, Ryden barely managed to keep himself from falling to his knees as exhaustion began to take its toll on him. There was a brief blur in the smokescreen that their attacks had kicked up, and Ryden looked up only to be greeted with the barrel of Raveshaw's crossbow.

"Icy Prison!" The headhunter commanded before Ryden could react, and immediately the son of Dracon was trapped inside a cage of ice as the spell surrounded him.

Screaming a denial, Ryden slashed against the frozen bars of his cage, but to no apparent effect. Refusing to believe that he was trapped like this, he called upon his mana reserves once again and shouted, "Genocide!"

Alastor was immediately sheathed in a layer of lightning as the arte took effect, and Ryden battered the bars of the cage relentlessly, dealing seven consecutive slashes with steadily increasing power. His last slash was backed by enough strength to instantly kill a Crimson Balrog, but still the bars of ice refused to shatter.

Unable to go on any longer, Ryden sank to his knees in defeat. Alastor slipped from his weakening fingers, the greatsword reverting back into its katana form as it dropped to the floor of the cage.

Outside of Ryden's frozen cage, Raveshaw smirked in triumph. "You cannot hope to defeat us, son of Dracon." The headhunter crowed. "You are but a whelp, whereas we wield the full power of the legacies of the Orden de Celstia and Koaxia!"

Raveshaw knew in the back of his mind that part of his statement was utter bullshit, but who cared? Backed by the power of his guild master, he had the son of Dracon defeated and kneeling before him, and he was giddy with elation at his victory.

Now that Ryden had been taken care of, the headhunter turned his attention back to the fallen priestess. He called down Ceil's limp body from its resting place atop the roof, and it was pulled towards him as though it was being towed by invisible hooks.

He caught the priestess by the scruff of her neck as she floated towards him, and made sure that he was holding her in full view of Ryden.

"Now watch, son of Dracon." Raveshaw declared with the voice of his lord, the guild master's power flowing through him once more. "Watch as your final pillar of strength falls!"

Taking immense pleasure at the helpless fury that he saw in Ryden's eyes, Raveshaw summoned a crimson lance of energy with his guild master's power and thrust it through the priestess' chest, making sure to aim for her heart. Revelling in the pain that he was causing both the fighter and the priestess, Raveshaw cackled sadistically as Ceil awoke with a scream of agony, one that was mirrored by Ryden's cry of anguish as he unwillingly watched the lance impale his mother.

Releasing his hold on the priestess' body, he gave one last laugh of triumph before he felt himself being whisked back to his guild's sanctuary by his guild master in a rush of darkness, his lord's voice resounding in his head.

_It is done._ _Now it only a matter of time before the son of Dracon will cease to be a problem._

* * *

_No no no no nononoNO!_ Ryden leapt to his feet the moment his cage disappeared as Raveshaw vanished, and he rushed to his mother's side, blood already streaming from her mouth and her wound as the lance disappeared along with its creator. 

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as Ryden knelt beside Ceil, his hands hovering helplessly over the mortal wound as he sought to ease his mother's suffering even though he knew there was nothing he could do.

"Ryden... son..." Ceil gasped weakly, struggling to speak through the agony that she was in. "Before I pass on... there is something... I have to give you..." The priestess coughed up a mouthful of blood onto the floor, and Ryden impulsively grabbed his mother's hand, as though he could keep her from leaving him through sheer force of will.

"Take it easy mom, easy. You're gonna be all right. You're not gonna die, you hear me?" Ryden knew how hollow and untrue the words were even before they left his mouth, and it seemed as though the words were meant to comfort himself instead. Still, he struggled to keep himself together even as grief washed over him like a tidal wave. Watching her son now, Ceil could not help but smile at his efforts, but she knew that her time had come.

With what seemed to be the last of her strength, she reached up to her neck and tore the amulet free from its necklace. The pain was beginning to fade away, and Ceil knew that she was dying. There was still one thing left to do before she passed away.

She took Ryden's hand and pressed the amulet weakly into his palm. Looking totally lost, Ryden stared at the amulet as though it were some sort of alien object. He looked back to his mother for an explanation, but she had none to give. Only one last reminder that Ryden would remember for the rest of his life.

"With great power... comes great... responsibility. Remember that... my son... remember..."

With a smile that was backed by her faith that her son would do the right thing, Ceil, wife to the legendary Crusader Dracon, and the mother of Ryden Dracon, passed away.

Ryden broke down sobbing as he watched the last of his mother's life leave her body, and he remained that way for the next several minutes, where Stalrigarde, Seles and Grace found him.

* * *

_No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love are always the ones who pay._ Ryden thought to himself, as he watched his mother's casket being lowered into her grave. 

Ceil's funeral was well-attended. The wise men, the four generals, all the members of the Dead Six, and several of the priestess' old friends who had joined GDI had gathered to mourn her passing. Astella was there as well, surreptiously attending the funeral behind her guild superiors' backs, standing beside Ryden and holding his hand consolingly.

In front of the gathering, Grendel read from a small, black leather book: "_We have come to a place far from home / Time long passed since the we have seen the sun rise / A place where peace can finally come / A place where we can rest and laugh and sing and love once more."_

The wizened archmage hung his head and closed the volume. There was a moment of silence.

"Burial detail dismissed," Keiga Seles stated.

The gathering of mourners slowly dispersed, and soon enough only Ryden and Astella were left standing by the grave as the Wise Men, the generals and the Dead Six left. Ryden slowly stroked the amulet that his mother had given him, the only momento that he had left of her. He fought back tears that threatened to rise, and took in a deep breath to calm himself down.

A full day and a half had passed since his mother had been so brutally murdered, a day and a half since Ryden felt as though a part of him had died with his mother. Zeraion had quickly recovered from his wounds and felt well enough to attend the funeral, and he had set a brotherly hand on Ryden's shoulder as he left, giving a consoling squeeze that said _I feel your pain_.

Ryden somehow doubted that Zeraion really knew, but he decided to give the hunter the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm sorry about your mother, Ryden." Astella soon spoke up, turning to face him. "I know what it's like to lose a parent."

"I didn't lose her." Ryden replied, anger beginning to replace his grief. "She was stolen from me. I swear on my mother's grave, Necropolis will pay for this."

He finally looked away from Ceil's grave, and straight into Astella's eyes. "Thank God for you, Astella. Outside of GDI, you're the only family I have now."

He stepped forward, and they embraced, Astella stroking his back in a comforting gesture. After several seconds, they broke away, and they shared a quick kiss of goodbye before Ryden began to walk away from his mother's grave, following the Dead Six members back to GDI's headquarters.

_No matter what happens, whatever life has in store for me, I will never forget these words: With great power, comes great responsibility. This is my gift. This is my curse. Who am I?_

Ryden's pace slowly sped up to a run, and soon he was sprinting across the grounds of the graveyard as he sped towards his departing squadmates.

_I'm the son of Dracon. And I will make Necropolis pay for what it's done._

* * *

As Ryden left, with his back turned to her, Astella was sure that he could feel her eyes on him. If he had turned around before he started sprinting, however, he would have noticed that her gaze was not fixed on him specifically. 

It was fixed on the Force Edge, which was holstered across his back.

* * *

A/N: Oh. My. God. Finally. I'm finished. I'm too exhausted to make a post-chapter comment, just send in your reviews. See ya. 


	16. Opening Moves

Disclaimer: some text missing

* * *

A/N: Oh boy... I know you guys practically want to kill me for making you wait so long, and I'm really sorry for the long delay, but just refer to how Kal Ancalas said he felt when he was writing while he was supposed to be studying for his exams and you'll know how I feel. Besides, I've been studying so much that my brain is virtually fried; whenever I try to write my brain just seizes up, draws up a blank and refuses to draw up anything else. You guys are lucky I even managed to write this much in my current state of mind. 

To quote Kal Ancalas: "Me want review".

* * *

Chapter 16: Opening Moves

The war room of GDI's central headquarters, the _Philadelphia_, was a beehive of activity. The very same place that Ryden had taken refuge in during his training as an Agent, the _Philadelphia _was the most secure location in Bera, and was virtually impregnable to attacks from hackers, Necropolis or otherwise.

Hundreds of high-ranking GDI soldiers and officers were assembled there, awaiting the orders from High Command. Rumors were everywhere, and an air of excitement spread from company to company as they conversed with one another on their benches; all of them were excited about the first large-scale battle that GDI was about to undertake. The tension and anticipation in the air was almost tangible. If not the start of the war, Operation: First Strike would definitely be the prelude to the worldwide conflict that would inevitably erupt.

The commotion died down, however, as the Wise Men, the four generals, and the Dead Six arrived in the wardroom. The six commandoes took their seats at the very front of the wardroom, closest to the large holographic projector, while the Wise Men and the generals stood next to the projector. Dances with Balrog signaled for attention, and the whole room fell silent. Anticipation was keen.

"The time has come." Athena Pierce spoke first. "With the assassination of the priestess, Necropolis has just signed its own death warrant. It is time that GDI took an offensive role in this conflict, and Operation: First Strike will be the beginning of that policy."

Grendel depressed a button on the holographic projector, and the image of the holding pen in the forest close to Henesys was displayed. If anything was different since the last time the Dead Six had seen it, it was that the pen was even fuller than before of monsters, if that was even possible, and the number of Necropolis personnel standing guard around it had nearly tripled.

"This Necropolis holding pen is currently the closest to us. It is also the largest of all the holding pens that Necropolis has built in Victoria Island, making it the most dangerous." Athena stated. "We will strike at this greatest threat first, and neutralize it to ensure that Henesys will no longer be in danger. The 501st battalion will spearhead this pioneer attack, while the 412th regiment will be held back in reserve should the 501st encounter any trouble. The Dead Six will be appointed as their commanders for this mission."

A murmur of comment rippled through the crowd; only two battalions would be taking part in the attack? Then what would the rest of the soldiers be doing, just sitting around on their hindquarters?

"Our other forces are being held back so they will be available to attack the other holding pens when the time comes." Athena explained before the commotion could get louder. "If we commit all of our forces to one undertaking and are routed, then GDI is done for."

The bowlady stepped back, and Rathias Gardner took her place in front of the holographic projector.

"All right, commanders of the 501st and 412th, listen up," The bowmaster called out. "The number of monsters that Necropolis has locked away inside this pen is inordinate; if they release the monsters first to soften us up, the 412th will be called in to reinforce the 501st. In the meantime, Companies Two and Three of the 501st will create a diversion at the northwest end of the holding grounds; that's where their defenses are weakest, but also where the terrain is in their favour."

The aforementioned region was highlighted on the holographic display as the view zoomed in, showing the northwest end of the holding grounds, where the forest was particularly thin and Necropolis had plenty of firing angles into the woods from afar.

"After Necropolis' defenses have been diverted to the northwest end, Companies Two and Three are to fall back into the forest. Meanwhile, Companies One and Four will spearhead the true assault from the southeast. That's where the terrain is in _our_ favour."

Again, the view zoomed in to the region that the bowmaster was referring to, displaying the southeast area of the pen where the forest was now particularly dense, making it difficult for Necropolis soldiers to get any shots at the GDI troops which would be storming through the woods.

"The likelihood of Necropolis unlocking the pen's doors to release the monsters on us first is very high." Gardner continued as the view zoomed out back to the default bird's-eye view of the holding grounds. "An estimate of the number of monsters they have amassed in there is about ten thousand." Once again the soldiers gathered began to mutter amongst themselves in disbelief. Ten thousand? And in all likelihood, a majority of them would be Tauros? This was as good as a suicide mission.

"It's not going to be easy," Rathias raised his voice slightly to be heard over the murmuring. "The grounds are cramped and there will be little open area once the monsters are released. They have the advantage of superior numbers, but we have the element of surprise; Necropolis definitely isn't expecting us to strike out at them so quickly, and we also have the advantage of combined arms. I won't say that this battle is totally in our favour, but the odds definitely favour us more than they do Necropolis."

Reassured, the officers fell quiet, although there were still occasional mutters from the non-commisioned officers and sergeants majors that were gathered in the war room.

"Captain Ark Wolfen will be placed in overall command of Companies Two and Three. Lieutenants Tora Drakeson and Roxi Leinharte will be placed in command of Company Four, while Major Ascion Blade will be placed in command of Company One. Commander Zeraion Phoenix will be placed in overall command of the entire operation. Any questions?" Gardner finished, looking over the assembled soldiers.

When there was no response, Rathias nodded in approval. "Then prepare for the assault, and may the blessings of the Wise Men be with you."

* * *

Ryden pushed through the departing crowd to reach the Wise Men as Gardner concluded the briefing. He had briefly wondered what was going on when his name wasn't mentioned in the briefing, and he fully intended to find out what was going on. 

"General Seles!" Ryden called out the moment he caught sight of the Dark Knight, who was gathered with Zeraion and the Wise Men and was currently discussing with them the finer details of the operation. Seles turned when he heard his name being called.

"Ah, Ryden. I take it you're wondering why we did not assign you command of any of the Companies?" The Dark Knight asked with a knowing smile on his face.

Mildly surprised, Ryden nodded.

"It's because you will not be participating in the operation." The matter-of-fact tone that Seles used totally stunned Ryden for a few moments. Before he could begin to protest however, the Dark Knight began to explain.

"You will be going down to the dungeon, to the Grave of Mushmom. When your mother was still alive, she told us that Dracon had one of his weapons hidden back inside its place of origin; somewhere near Mushmom's grave. _Your_ mission is to recover your father's old weapons and bring them back in time to assist in the operation."

Ryden nodded, now understanding. "I understand, sir. I'll get those weapons and be back within the hour."

"Be cautious, Ryden." Seles warned him. "Necropolis most likely knows you're heading there, and they will stop at nothing to prevent you from retrieving your father's equipment. Questions?"

"I have one," started Zeraion, "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind dying for a cause, but I don't like sacrificing the lives of men under my charge. If this mission is as suicidal as you all claim it is, why not send in Agents? There seem to be an infinite number number of them?"

"Good question," replied Grendel, "You see, after the debacle we call Koaxia, we couldn't afford to have anymore Agents go renegade. As such we downgraded all their A.I. scripts to something more akin to monsters. They're hunter-killers, but subtlety is something they don't do well. Furthermore, since their scripts are similar to monster, we cannot afford to send them out only to have Necropolis take control of them."

"Speaking of Koaxia, I've always had something tugging at me form the back of my mind," said Ryden.

"Go, shoot. We'll answer as best we can," Athena assured.

"Ok then, here goes; Necropolis is currently using hacks and declaring they're the new heirs to Koaxia's legacy right? In that case why does Smith wanna kill them all so badly?"

Grendel's eyes turned earthwards for a second, as though an old, sad memory was invoked, then he cleared his throat and continued, "Understand two things: one, Koaxia are not the only hackers in Bera. Two, neither are they the greatest. They're the most famous alright, given the amount of mayhem the caused, but they come from a school of greater thought. We are paying so much attention to Necropolis because unlike Koaxia, they have the numbers. There are many ways to skin a cat, using a million blunt knives will accomplish the same as one sharp knife."

"You mean there are more destructive elements than those guys?" Ryden was in disbelief.

Grendel pressed a few buttons on the holographic display, and an image of a man appeared. Ryden had never seen such armors before on any job class. He wore a white biretta, with a long sleeveless vest of the same color, but faded to black as the vest reached his legs. A belt of gold and black leather was worn around his waist, with black leather pants and boots to finish the look. On his fists, he wore fingerless gloves, capped with chrome knuckles which extended to menacing spikes.

"This is Zarathustra. He was the fifth GM of Bera," Grendel introduced, with a tinge of sadness in his voice, "He was by far the most passionate about the game, willing to work overtime to finish up server maintainence, constantly racking his brain for new ideas, new maps, new events, new themes. He was a gifted programmer and was blessed with an extremely creative mind. Brainstorming sessions became 'Sit-back-and-see-what-cool-new-idea-Zarathustra-has' sessions. However, he had a shortfall: he was a fiery person and an idealist, normally the type to end up as president, or a political exile. He was always criticizing the management on them not giving us enough funds for the server, for the lack of manpower and so on. The management bit back, and Zarathustra was only given a form in Bera during special events. Other times, he was just an invisible wraith. Naturally Zarathustra wanted more: he loved the game, the people, the interactions. He came up with a solution no less than brilliant: a fifth job class. Burning midnight oil for months until he finally got it right; it was a class for advanced play, capable of linking various skills one after another to form a long combo string. He called it the Champion. It was brilliant, its skills were flashy and hit insane levels on the damage charts, but their difficulty to execute balanced it out. He even took special care to ensure they fit into popular party setups well during party quests and Zakum sessions."

"Then what happened?" asked Zerion, hints of envy laced his voice.

"The management threw it out, citing cost requirements. Zarathustra was so furious he started raging at them, only to wind up fired."

"What does this have to do with Koaxia?" Ryden impatiently asked.

"Everything, listen on," Grendel calmed him down, "Zarathustra left so fast, we didn't check if he re-formatted his computer. Naturally he didn't. As such he effectively became someone with the powers of a GM, but not the responsibilities. To make matters worse, he put spyware and keyloggers in our computers, so he could track every update in the game, and counter every attempt to keep him out. From Maple Island he recruited four of the most foresighted, promising Beginners and made them his lieutenants; his Testaments. For they would be the ones to testify his power to unbelievers. Adopting the colors red, blue, black and white, the Testaments aided him in setting up his temple of Champions. Spreading through word of mouth, many Beginners in search of power opted to become Champions instead of Warriors, Mages, Rogues or Archers. But since the temple was deep in the Ant Tunnel, only the strongest reached their goal. After years of preparation, Zarathustra declared war on Bera. His champions outclassed every other job, but his obsession with rooting out the best led to his demise, and sheer quantity triumphed over quality. Zarathustra dead, his army scattered, we thought it was the end; it wasn't."

"What happened next?" even Seles was captivated by the tale.

"One of Zarathustra's Testaments, the Black Testament Darkbyte survived. However, he wasn't interested in creating a job class or a utopia. He was intrigued by how Zarathustra could manipulate the very fabric of the world and convert it to power. He devoted his entire life to studying that art, what we would call today hacking, and chronologically became the first hacker documented. However he took care not to fall where his master did, working totally in secret. Until today we only know a small fraction of Darkbyte's deeds. These were not even found out, however, until the so-called "Golden Age" of hacking. As that time the game reached unprecedented popularity levels and people who had only recently discovered what Zarathustra had been playing with decades ago emerged. The game was split into two, hackers and non-hackers. Since hacking only became widespread at that time, there were no hard and fast rules against it, and many hackers proudly declared themselves a superior race over the non-hackers. One, however, advocated a different approach. He was Jewbacca, the Gentleman Hacker. Claiming that Darkbyte was his teacher, Jewbacca wanted a world where hackers and non-hackers alike could coexist. He proposed forming a high court on hackers, to which all hackers would have to report to. This high court would then set a code of ethics for hacking, including only hacking in vacated maps, selling items obtained by hacking at lower prices and stuff like that, in order not to disrupt the gameplay of non-hackers. Any who broke the rules would be killed. However Jewbacca faced flak from both camps, and since he was such a prominent figure, he was the first on our Agent's assassination list when the anti-hacking rules came in."

"It ends like that?" Ryden asked.

"Far from it," Grendel took a sip from a magically conjured bottle of water, and continued, "We didn't know Jewbacca had a disciple: Alien. Alien studied the acts of the three previous great masters and was convinced Darkbyte's secrecy was the way to go. However, since he was an outlaw, he needed a trump card in case he was discovered and killed. He found it in something no amount of Agents would be able to protect: the economy. He formed the Orden de Caelestia, and through dummy companies controlled by Orden members, started to buy large parts of the corporate market. Over the centuries, he eventually controlled ninety-five percent of basic necessity distribution. His plan was that if ever he was under persecution, he would cut the supply of necessities and cause chaos, then use that as a bargaining chip. However, we had a dedicated team of Espardas on his trail for decades, and they managed to root him out and destroy him and the Orden without causing much market fluctuations. However, this team of Espardas would then go on to be taken in by his words and become the Order of Koaxia."

"I still don't get it, what does that have to do with Koaxia's actions," Ryden asked again.

Grendel pushed another button and the holographic image of Alien was replaced by six emblems, "Take a look at these emblems. Pick the odd one out."

Ryden couldn't find any similarity whatsoever, but Zerion's training as an Archer to pay attention to detail paid off. "That one," he pointed at the Necropolis scorpion tail, "It lacks the motto the other five have."

"Sharp," commended Grendel. Now knowing what to look for, Ryden noticed that indeed the other five had credos. The first one, Zarathustra's own, was a silver shield with a gold 'Z' emblazoned on the center; the base of the shield had the words "Also Sprach Zarathustra". The second one, Darkbyte's, was a gold crescent with a sword overlapping it in the center; the same words were etched on the blade of the sword. The third, Jewbacca's, was a scale with the motto on the black circle surrounding it. Fourthly, Alien's was half of a red fig leaf, with the phrase in red text under the leaf in a crescent shape. Fifth, Koaxia's emblem, an angel armed with sword and lance, the motto written on a banner that unfolded at the angel's feet. Necropolis didn't have the motto.

"You see," Grendel started again. "Zarathustra was an intellectual, not a slave-driver. He did not demand eternal servitude for power, instead he shared the power with anyone foresighted enough, and called for them to groom and grow this power until it becomes strong enough to topple us thus fulfilling his ultimate aim, something Koaxia nearly did. A_lso Sprach Zarathustra_ means 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra', a way of reminding themselves of their covenant with Zarathustra. The only reason I can think of on Smith's actions is because to Zarathustran hackers, Zarathustra is a god and they consider themselves his warrior-priests. Like every religion, blessings and divinity can only be given by god and those who seek it with their own power are heretics to be cut down."

Ryden turned slowly and left, swallowing hard to digest the new information. He was in two minds, the first delighted that he wouldn't be facing the likes of Smith in battle anytime soon, and the other fearful. There was a religious zealot on the loose, and Astella was a heretic.

* * *

The darkness stopped spinning around him, and Raveshaw finally stumbled out of the portal, into the Council's conference chamber. The guildmaster and Melchiah were already waiting at their respective sides of the raised pentagonal platform, but two new arrivals filled up the empty spaces that were once occupied by the Chaos Sorcerer Sindri, the Daemon Prince Bale, and the Voidwalker Dreznor. 

Raveshaw immediately dipped his head in a bow to his guildmaster. "As you know, it is done, master. The priestess is dead. The son of Dracon is broken." He gave a cursory glance to the two new arrivals, and noticed that one was a male warrior, while the other was a female mage. Most disconcerting to Raveshaw however, was that Melchiah seemed uncomfortable in the presence of the new arrivals despite him being the one who recruited them, and the warrior was looking upon the mage with open disdain.

"Good, Raveshaw. At last, that particular thorn in our side has been removed." The guildmaster answered. "It is time for you to meet the new replacements for our lost council members."

He gestured towards the warrior. The warrior was surprisingly short for somebody of his job, but whatever he lacked in height, he more than made up for in sheer bulk and muscle. His barrel-chested midsection alone was wider than Raveshaw's body; it seemed as though somebody had taken a human with the muscle mass of a Balrog and pounded him flat into the ground with a gigantic warhammer until it had been compressed into the short individual before him. His armor was colored a dark crimson, and strapped to his back and sides were more kinds of melee weapons than Raveshaw could be bothered to count.

"This is Raam." The guildmaster introduced. "He is a recently ordained Daemon Prince, and is to be Bale's successor to his position on the council. Melchiah claims that Raam was an old friend of Bale's…"

"That I am." Raam suddenly interrupted. "Bale was like an older brother to me. I swear on the blood of my heart that whoever is responsible for his death will pay."

The guildmaster apparently decided to let the interruption pass, and he gestured towards the mage.

"This is Nevan. Like Raam, she is a recently ordained Chaos Sorceress, and is to be the successor to Sindri's place in the council. Melchiah says that she was Sindri's most promising student before he perished." The Chaos sorceress dipped her head in respect to the guildmaster and the senior council members as the guildmaster finished the introduction.

Most surprisingly, she looked simply like a female version of the late Chaos Sorcerer; she wore the same blood-red robes in the same fashion that her master had worn his, she sported the same demonic runes on her face that radiated the same demonic power, and her skin was the same ghostly hue of ivory as her master's. There were only two differences between the two; unlike her master, this mage actually had hair on her head, a long, flowing mane of raven-black hair, but it was her eyes that stood out the most. Her irises were colored a feral yellow, and they glittered like twin topazes with a combination of intelligence and charm that had been the downfall of many of Necropolis' male members.

"It was my master's wish that I ascend to the council in his place in the event of his death." The chaos sorceress spoke. "I hope that I will prove worthy of serving with the most powerful men on Bera." Her eyes twinkled seductively at Raveshaw, and the headhunter realized what was the source of Melchiah's discomfort. He shifted uncomfortably under her suggestive gaze, as Melchiah had done minutes earlier before Raveshaw's arrival when Nevan had given him the very same suggestive glance that she offered Raveshaw mere seconds ago. She had even gone as far as bestowing the same suggestive look upon the guildmaster.

The guildmaster seemed totally unaffected by her charms, however, and he continued to speak without even giving her a second glance.

"I have gathered you all here today not merely for an introduction to the new addition to our ranks; they are not the only additions we will be receiving. I have just received word from our Experimental Research department that new, major breakthroughs have been made with their most recent project. This new technology that they have developed will provide us with a great edge in the imminent war against GDI."

The guildmaster then turned to the two new arrivals. "As the newest members of the council, I have bestowed upon you two the privilege to be the pioneers of this new technology. GDI is mobilizing to strike at the holding pen closest to Henesys. You will each take a battalion of our soldiers, equipped with weaponry enhanced by this new technology, and push back the GDI assault. Raam, remain here after the council has concluded its meeting. I have a special sub-assignment for you."

"As you wish, my lord." Raam bowed his head.

"The nature of this new technology is not totally certain even to our scientists, but they assure us that after all sufficient testing, it will be more than sufficiently deadly towards our enemies while not rendering us any harm." The guildmaster continued. "You need not worry about our newest creation suddenly turning on us."

The council's discussion carried on for several minutes, conferring to one another about what tactics were best suited for defending the holding pen while minimizing casualties. Soon it was suggested by Nevan, and agreed upon by the others that the best plan of defense was to hold the battalions back in reserve while they released the monsters within the pen to soften up the GDI forces first, and Nevan was placed in overall command of the defense.

Raam seemed visibly irked at the Chaos sorceress being chosen in favor over him, but he held his peace and did not say a word. As the council members left the conference chamber through their own dark portals, Raam remained behind as his guildmaster had ordered.

The guildmaster spoke once the chamber was empty save for them. "Raam, you are not doubt wondering what sub-assignment you are going to be assigned with, correct?"

"I am curious, my lord." Raam declared. "No disrespect intended towards my fellow council member, but why did you choose Nevan to be in overall command of the defense?"

"If you are subtly trying to ask why I did not choose you," The guildmaster answered. "It is because you will not be participating in the defense at all. Your battalion will be placed under Nevan's command, and you will instead be descending into the dungeon, to the grave of Mushmom, with a detachment of our finest monsters."

Raam looked positively incredulous at this. "But… my lord, surely you are not relieving me of my role at the defense of the pen simply to hunt down some undead mushroom?"

"You can rest assured that I am not." The guildmaster replied. "I am sending you there because one of Dracon's old pieces of equipment resides there at a shrine that was built in his honor as the equipment was returned to its place of origin. The son of Dracon will attempt to recover his father's equipment, and it is your job to ensure that he does not. I believe he is on his way there as we speak."

"Then why am I not heading there now with the Balrogs at my heel?" Raam all but demanded. "Surely if he is on the way there now, we must make all due haste!"

If the guildmaster was offended by Raam's headstrongness and partial lack of respect, he did not show it. "The son of Dracon merely knows that the shrine is located within the grave of Mushmom. He does not know its exact location. It will be a race against time for you to beat him to it. Should you fail to find it before he does, use the monsters at your disposal to dispatch him and recover Dracon's equipment. I have ensured that you will have more than enough cannon fodder to dispose of."

Raam's scowl at having such a difficult mission to begin with finally changed into a grin. This changed things totally. Even if the son of Dracon could recover his father's equipment, whatever it was, he would still die anyway by Raam's hand.

"Yes, my lord." The anticipation was practically dripping from the Daemon Prince's voice. "I will bring back his head."

* * *

Once the 501st and the 412th were prepped and ready, they departed from Henesys, moving at the swiftest speeds the army's assassins and bandits could bestow upon their comrades, into the forest near the town of bowmen. The two battalions seperated as they entered the forest, the 412th remaining closer to Henesys while the 501st pressed deeper into the forest. Zeraion felt some trepidation at leaving, for he knew that Ryden would be descending into the dungeon instead of accompanying them on the assault, and now they were putting more distance between themselves and their mightiest warrior. 

The Dead Six commandoes kept their force travelling for the rest of the day and into the night, continually searching the forest for the holding grounds. Only when it was clear that many of the soldiers could go no further did Zeraion reluctantly call for a stop.

As the hours passed and night finally turned back into day, Zeraion was roused form his sleep by an odd tremor in the ground. It seemed to emanate from the area to the east, and several soldiers were roused from their sleep as well, as the tremor intensified.

Zeraion was already out of his tent and suiting up for battle when Ark approached him.

"Zer, the sentries have reported tremors coming from the southeast. I've already sent out the advance scouting parties, but I would think we've found our holding pen." The axe-fighter's grin of anticipation lifted Zeraion's spirits, and the hunter quickly secured his last piece of shoulder armor before slinging the Abyssal Arund over his back.

"Well then, let's get cracking." Zeraion concluded. "You know what to do, Ark. Get Companies Two and Three ready to create that diversion. I'll get Companies One and Four to circle around the compound. Just set 'em up, and we'll knock 'em down."

Ark's grin widened. "It'll be just like old times, Zer, back when we were kids. They'll never stop us!"

Zeraion's mouth split into a grin of his own, and he punched his elder brother lightly on the shoulder. "Go kick some ass, bro. We'll win this day."

Ark quickly set off to prepare his troops for battle, and Zeraion turned to face the soldiers of his own companies, to get them ready for battle as well.

They had a war to start.

* * *

The GDI battalion split in two, Companies Two and Three heading directly towards the tremors, intent on creating the diversion at the northwest end of the compound before Companies One and Four reached the southeast end of the holding grounds. As the diversion companies neared the northwest end of the compound however, the tremors they had experienced suddenly weakened, as though the monsters in the pen had quietened. Ark quickly opened a COM channel to his companies' advance scouting parties, and made a status query. 

The reports that he received made his blood run cold.

The northwest end of the holding grounds were completely deserted of Necropolis troops. According to the scouts' reports, all of Necropolis' personnel had instead gathered at the southeast end and were fortifying their defenses there, and the southeastern cage doors of the holding pen were beginning to open.

His brothers were walking into a deathtrap.

Immediately Ark opened a COM channel to Companies One and Four.

"Zer, Ascion, get out of there! Necropolis knows your coming!" Ark all but shouted into his boom mike. If his blood had run cold before, it now turned into solid ice within his veins when he heard what came next; Zeraion and Ascion did not respond, and in the background he could hear the sounds of battle.

Moving quickly, he turned to his junior officer, a young cleric that looked no older than Ascion, and barked, "Sound the call! We've got to get moving; Companies One and Four are walking into an ambush!"

As the cleric rushed off to obey Ark's commands, the axe-fighter reached behind his back and drew the Twin Reavers from their sheaths. Not even waiting for his companies to start following him, he took off through the forest, intent on saving his brothers.

* * *

_Reminder to self: __No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy._ Zeraion thought to himself. Currently, he and his soldiers were preparing to fight for their lives as they watched the oncoming horde of Tauros, Evil Eyes, Cold Eyes and Balrogs charged, unleashed and flowing towards them like a never-ending river of death as the floodgates of the holding pen opened. 

Battle sirens blared, and the line of GDI troops spread out, moving into battle formation. The armored warriors swiftly moved to the front, Crusaders, White Knights and Dragon Knights moving to the very forefront of the lines, while the less experienced Fighters, Pages, and Spearmen took up positions behind them to support their superiors.

The bowmen positioned themselves near the rear of the army, readying their bows and arrows as the monstrous horde neared them. The magicians placed themselves between the warriors and the bowmen, ready to support either group when necessary, and the thieves dispersed themselves throughout the army, the bandits moving forward to support the warriors while the assassins hung back to protect the bowmen and the magicians.

An army of a thousand strong, the 501st batallion was a tremendous sight to behold, but even as Zeraion observed the might of the forces at his command, he could not help but wonder if even that would be enough to win this day.

Then the first of the horrific monsters entered within range of the archers' bows, and Zeraion's thoughts turned only to survival.

Survival... and living through this battle to see Grace again.

* * *

**A/N: Meanwhile...**

A booted foot scuffed against the rocky floor of the Grave of Mushmom, and dislodged a rock, sending it tumbling forward a few feet before it came to a rest. Ryden observed the drop before him that extended for several dozen meters, and he unhesitatingly leapt off the edge of the crevice that he stood upon.

The fighter landed on the ground with barely a whisper of sound, the cloak that he had worn to accompany his armor today settling down silently behind him. Behind him he could hear the ragged breathing of the undead creature that inhabited this chamber, and smell the foul stench of its rotting flesh through his Draconic Senses. The sounds reverberated through the large cavern, echoing across the walls until it seemed as though the sound was coming from everywhere at once.

The ragged breathing quickened as the owner of the sounds apparently detected the fighter's presence. With a low growl, the undead Mushmom launched itself forth from the shadows, moving with a swiftness that belied its colossal size.

Undaunted, Ryden merely stood his ground, drawing Alastor from its sheath and transforming it into its greatsword form. The blade crackled into existence, and the air smelled of lightning. Ryden raised Alastor in a defensive movement as the Zombie Mushmom descended upon him.

With an unholy cry, the undead mushroom threw its entire weight upon the lone fighter, fully intending to crush its hapless victim beneath its entire weight. Instead, it received the surprise of its brief un-life as the warrior easily leapt over its body-slam attack with astounding agility, totally evading the undead mushroom's assault and landing unharmed on the far side of the chamber. The Zombie Mushmom sluggishly turned itself around to make another charge at the warrior, and in doing so, opened itself up to attack from the waiting fighter.

Ryden let the mana flow through him once more, and the particles of charged energy were channeled from within his body and into his weapon. The residual lightning bolts that occasionally crackled around Alastor's blade suddenly increased in strength and frequency, until the blade became little more than a super-dense column of electricity, and the son of Dracon charged forward.

The fighter let out a loud shout as he reached the giant undead mushroom, swinging his greatsword in a wide, upward vertical arc. Alastor's blade dug itself briefly into the rocky floor of the chamber before erupting back outwards in a fountain of lightning and dirt, and the sheer force of the upward slash launched not only the zombie mushmom into the air, but Ryden as well.

The fighter immediately followed up his slash with a torrent of steel as he slid Ebony & Ivory smoothly onto his hands and began to fire off kumbis at insane speeds. The volley of stars sent the mushmom flying backwards, where it collided against the wall of the chamber and left a very visible imprint of its shape.

The undead mushroom collapsed to the floor with a resounding _crash_, and it slowly attempted to get back up. The only thought that ran through its simple mind was _Kill_, and even on the brink of death, it sought to act on that impulse.

Shaking his head in pity, Ryden channeled mana into his claws until they began to crackle with red bolts of energy, and he levelled them both at the struggling mushmom. The fighter murmured a brief prayer in respect to the undead monster's departed spirit before pulling Ebony & Ivory's triggers simultaneously.

The kumbis that exploded outwards from the modified claws were imbued with explosive qualities from the mana with which they had been charged with, and the moment they impacted against the failing flesh of the zombie mushmom, the unstable energies contained within their fragile steel bodies released themselves in a spectacular explosion.

When the dust settled, the only remnant of the mushmom's presence was a torn fragment of the undead charm that had been used to bring the mushmom back to life. Sighing, Ryden slid Ebony & Ivory off his hands and slid them back into the holsters on the small of his back. He reverted Alastor back into its katana form, and smoothly slid it back into its sheath.

With a swish of his cloak, he walked away from the ashes that were the monster's corpse, and began to inspect the chamber for any sign of a hidden portal that would lead him to his father's old equipment.

* * *

The monsters had been confined for a long time now, and now they hungered for destruction, for mayhem. The Evil Eyes, Cold Eyes and Wild Kargos bayed and the Tauros and Balrogs behind them roared in pleasure and anticipation upon seeing rows upon rows of figures before them. Here were lambs to the slaughter, blood to be spilled. 

With a single horrific battle cry, they sped up their charge.

Commander Zeraion Phoenix nodded.

"Archers stand ready!" shouted an officer.

More than two hundred curved bows aimed skyward.

The commander held his hand high, watching. The monstrous horde drew nearer... nearer...

Zeraion dropped his hand.

Like a flight of screaming banshees, the rain of arrows flew towards the enemy, drowning out the archers' cries of "Strafe!" and "Arrow Rain!". Even knowing that death fell toward them, the monsters did not slow. All they saw were those who must die.

The shafts descended.

Monsters they might be, but they were monsters with flesh. The first rank fell almost to the individual, some with so many arrows in them that they could not lie flat on the ground. Eyes, Tauros and Kargos collapsed everywhere. One or two Balrogs dropped from the sky.

But the horde trampled over their own as if not even seeing them. Wild Kargos ignored their fallen brethren, howling and slavering as they neared GDI's lines.

"Damn!" muttered Zeraion. "One more volley! Quickly!"

With smooth precision, the archers readied. The young commander wasted no time in signaling them to fire.

Again death rained down upon the horde, but this time with far less effect. Now the Balrogs used their dark magicks to raise energy shields, and the Tauros formed better ranks.

"They are no longer mere beasts, now that they are controlled by Necropolis," uttered an officer near Ascion. "They learn too fast!"

Zeraion ignored him. "All archers maneuver further to the rear! Position and be ready to fire on the inner ranks! Warriors and bandits! Prepare to charge!"

"Zeraion!" Ascion called. "Shall I?"

"At this point, Ascion, you don't need to ask me for permission to do anything! Just do it!"

Ascion stared at the aread before the front ranks of the oncoming monsters, the Divine Fist staff held out before him. He concentrated, drwaing in the power. It took much less effort than usual, now that he had the staff's power at his disposal.

His eyes narrowed.

The ground erupted before the monstrous horde in an explosion of holy energy, the eruption sending dirt and rock raining down upon the monsters, assaulting those unharmed by the holy energies like a line of heavy catapults. Whatever monsters were within the blast radius of the explosion were instantly vaporised by the holy energies of Ascion's spell, their cries short and fleeting. Outside of the reach of the explosion, many Tauros flew in the air as the shockwave of the explosion still reached them, while others were buried under tons of earth. A huge boulder landed atop one Wild Kargo, cracking its spine in two like a twig.The rushing mass halted, many colliding.

The archers took advantage, sending another volley into the packed horde. Scores more fell, adding to the chaos.

Cheers rose among the soldiers. The magicians, on the other hand, looked somewhat jealously at Ascion. The officer in charge snarled at his fellow sorcerers, urging them to action.

The efforts of the regular spellcasters proved to be far less spectacular than Ascion's. Normal spells such as Ice Strikes and Explosions assaulted the monsters, but they often left no significant effect on the horde. A handful of Tauros dropped, but even some of those recovered.

"They're useless!" Roxi, who was standing near Ascion, snapped.

"They're trying," Zeraion corrected.

Instead of arguing, the young fire wizard suddenly pointed at the horde, muttering.

Serpentine tentacles made totally out of flame snaked around the throats of several dozen of those in the horde's forefront. The Tauros dropped their weapons and tried to tear the flaming tentacles free while the Eyes and Kargos slashed uselessly at them with their claws in an attempt to break free, but before they could do that, the tentacles burned through their necks, going through flesh and bone with little trouble... and eventually decapitating every one of Roxi's targets.

It was all Zeraion could do to hide his distaste. Something about the female wizard's choice of attack did not sit well with him, but the hunter chose to ignore it. Right now, he had more pressing matters to focus his attention on.

Once again, the horde surged onward. Under their feet they crushed the corpses of their comrades. They roared as they approached, the Tauros holding their maces and spears high and ready.

"We have to close with them now," Zeraion decided. "Ascion, Roxi, you two stay in the back and continue doing whatever you can. You're going to be providing the bulk of our magical support for now... possibly for the rest of the operation!"

Before the two magicians could respond, the GDI commander took off ahead of them, joining Tora and the warriors who stood with him. Zeraion summoned his Thunder Spear, the weapon igniting in his palm with a distinctive _snap-hiss_, and he raised it high.

The Dragon Knights and Spearmen within the front ranks tensed. Behind them, Crusaders, Fighters, White Knights, Pages, Bandits and Chief Bandits stood poised to follow. At the rear, the archers prepared for another shot.

Zeraion slashed downwards with his spear.

Battle sirens blared anew. The archers fired.

The GDI army charged to meet the enemy, the foremost warriors screaming challenges to the monsters.

Just as the Dragon Knights and Spearmen neared, the arrows struck. Distracted by the warriors' charge, those monsters in front were whittled down by the bolts. Disarray momentarily took hold of the foremost line, exactly as Zeraion had intended.

The swiftness of the Dragon Knights' charge, imbued with additional speed that the Chief Bandits granted them, enabled their spears to drive in deep. Despite their immense size, several Tauros were thrust into the air as the warriors' spears penetrated not only the armor but everything within.

The sheer force of the charge actually pushed back the monstrous horde for a moment. Spearmen wielding polearms did more damage, slashing and tearing at those packed tight before them. The other warriors and bandits joined in from behind, filling in gaps and thrusting at anything that was not one of them.

Their spears all but useless now, the Dragon Knights drew their polearms and did battle. Far back, the archers continued to unleash volleys at the ranks beyond the fighting.

Another row of warriors, Zeraion and Tora among them, still waited. The commander's gaze flicked back and forth, studying each individual struggle with eyes sharper than a hawk's, seeking the weak areas.

Ascion and Roxi were not idle, either. The cleric cast a spell that solidified the air above one section of the horde, literally dropping the sky on them. Roxi, in the meantime, repeated her serpentine spell, throttling and beheading several monsters at a time.

The regular magicians did what they could, their efforts slight but still of some aid. They could not, despite their best efforts, match up to Ascion's or Roxi's level of destruction, and it showed in their increasingly frustrated expressions.

Then, one of the ice and lightning mages screamed and pitched backwards, his skin sloughing off like water. By the time he hit the ground, he was little more than a skeleton in a pool of what had once been his flesh. The other magicians stared at the corpse in consternation, only their commanding officer's berating voice driving them back to their task.

Ascion quickly surveyed the horde, seeking the spell's source. It did not take him long to spot the culprit, a sinister figure further back in the lines. The spellcaster was not a monster, but was instead human. His armor was more ornate than that of the regular Necropolis grunt, and he also wore a black and bloodred robe over the armor and had eyes that glowed a frightening crimson, watching over the battlefield.

Ascion had never faced one himself, but the cleric recognised the descriptions of a Necropolis warlock. Not only were they the guild's sorcerers, but they also acted as its officers and strategists.

But the warlock had made the mistake in assuming that the regular magicians were the ones reponsible for the most devastating spells. That gave Ascion the opportunity that he needed.

He watched as the warlock cast again, but as the latter let loose with his dark spell, Ascion usurped it, turned it back on its creator.

The dark wizard gaped as his skin slipped free of his body. His mouth stretched in an inhuman cry and his gaze turned towards the cleric.

It was the last act by the warlock. The spellcaster's mouth continued to stretch, but only because nothing now held the jaw bone tight. For the briefest of moments, the fleshless figure stood there... then the skeletal remains disappeared beneath the endless wave of monsters.

With no one to command them, that part of the horde grew disoriented. The GDI soldiers pressed forward. The front ranks of the monstrous horde buckled...

"We are defeating them!" one young Crusader near Zeraion proclaimed.

But as quickly as the monsters had wavered, they now moved forward again with even more determination. In the back came Crimson Balrogs who drove them forward with magical whips. More Eyes and Kargos struggled to get through the defenders and reach the magicians and the archers.

GDI soldiers screamed as two Balrogs barreled their way into the warriors, tossing dozens of troopers aside. A hole opened up in the lines, and monsters poured through.

"Advance!" Zeraion shouted to those with him. "Don't let them cut up the lines!"

He and the other warriors charged the monstrous warriors who had broken through. Zeraion decimated a sizable portion of the horde with a cry of "Astatos!", while Tora disappeared into the horde momentarily before reappearing back at Zeraion's side with two consecutive shouts of "_Ligera Ventaja!_"

The supersonic, Assaulter-like maneuver that the bandit had pulled off succeeded in causing its intended effect, and the monsters that had broken through the lines suddenly stopped moving altogether, stunned into immobility by the bandit's lightning-fast attack. A number of the monsters had large gashes, marking the areas where the Night Raven dagger had struck true, and a handful of them abruptly dropped dead to the ground, blood pouring out of the large slash wounds that had suddenly appeared on their necks.

Zeraion slashed off the speartip of a surviving Taurospear's weapon, and then drove the tip of his own Thunder Spear into its head. Tora once again fell upon the monsters, ripping and tearing into them with the Night Raven.

The gap dwindled... then vanished. GDI's lines reformed.

But although they now had a solid front again, the defenders were still pushed back. For all the horrors that the GDI soldiers had slain, it seemed twice as many came to reinforce the swarm.

Ascion swore as he cast yet another spell that inflicted the horde with a series of deadly holy lightning bolt attacks. As magnified as his power was with the Divine Fist's aid, he knew he could have done even more if only he had the staff's full power open to him. He was still learning the ropes of his new weapon, and more importantly, he and Roxi still provided the vast bulk of magical support for the GDI forces, but neither could be everywhere. Roxi, for all her eagerness to use whatever spell she could conjure to slaughter the monsters, was tiring quickly, and Ascion felt little better. Not even the large number of mana elixirs that they had consumed over the past few minutes seemed to help, and though they could cast fewer times than the regular magicians, they could do so with much more satisfactory results.

More screams arose as the GDI army continued to be pushed back. Tauros smashed in heads, caved in armored chests. The Wild Kargos ripped apart warriors and bandits alike. Jr Balrogs leapt above the fray, then dove into the human throngs, swinging away with their claws and letting loose with the dark magics they had at their disposal. Crimson Balrogs began to pop up everywhere, raining down upon the defenders much the way the archers' arrows had done to them much earlier.

Another of the magicians cried out, but this time because a Wild Kargo had slipped through. Four assassins managed to blind the monster by hitting its eyes with their shurikens, then ending its life with several more precise strikes to the monster's chest, but by then it was too late for the wizard.

Another volley went up from the archers... and then immediately arced around and flew back at them. Although many had the good sense to run, several stood transfixed by the astonishing reversal.

Those died swiftly as their own bolts pierced their throats and their chests.

Zeraion searched, but could not see the Necropolis warlocks responsible. He cursed again that he could not be in more than one place and that the actions he took were not what he hoped.

_We're losing!_ For all their dedication, the GDI troops were hopelessly outnumbered, and to even have hope of winning, they needed to support of Companies Two and Three as well as the 412th.

"The line's buckling again!" someone called.

Zeraion had forgotten all about the other forces that they had in reserve and that were undoubtedly now rushing to their aid. There existed now only the battle... the battle, and Grace. With what perhaps might have been a last silent farewell to her, he focused once more on the endless ranks of montsers, trying to devise yet another tactic to use against the horrific swarm and already knowing that, by itself, it would not nearly be enough.

But until backup arrived, was there anything _anyone_ could do that would be enough?

* * *

The rock wall in the side of the cavern was not merely a rock wall, Ryden knew. As he reached out with his senses and tentatively probed the wall's interior, he noticed that a small portion of the wall was different from the rest; a portion that was just large enough for a human to step through. 

Right now as he stood before the portion of the wall that felt different, he realised that he had found his hidden portal. All he had to do was to figure out how to open it.

Experimentally, he drew Alastor and tapped the tip of the blade against the portal. When that didn't accomplish anything, he hacked lightly at the barrier with his blade; the resulting repulsive force that exploded out of the barrier slammed straight into Ryden and nearly sent him flying. Still, the fighter managed to keep his ground, and he merely grunted as his regeneration healed the minor bruises that the protective spell had inflicted upon him.

_Well, whoever made this portal, they sure as hell didn't want to make entry simple._ Ryden thought to himself as he paced in front of the barrier, resheathing Alastor and scrutinizing the hidden portal.

Or perhaps it was designed to deny entry only to those who weren't related to Dracon by blood. Ryden had heard of portals that were designed to work like bio-scans; only the person who created the protective enchantment or a person who was intended to pass through the portal as well could break through the spell.

He laid a hand on what he assumed was the centre of the portal, and a bright, blue light was emitted from where his hand came into contact with the rock.

Without warning, the entire portion of the wall that was in reality the portal totally vanished from sight. Ryden almost fell through the gap as the wall vanished, and he recovered his balance at the last moment.

Stepping through the now-open portal, Ryden found himself inside a much smaller chamber than before; this chamber was no larger than the Wise Men's conference room, and in the centre of it was a small shrine.

Ryden's breath hitched in his throat as he saw that a framed photograph was placed at the base of the shrine. Scarcely hoping, he strode forward and knelt down on one knee in front of the photo, inspecting it more closely.

His suspicions were confirmed. The photo showed a man clad in Crusader armor, with the Force Edge slung over his back. Most noticably, the man had silver hair, though his countenance betrayed no signs of old age, and his eyes were a piercing, cobalt blue. Ryden recognised the man only because of who stood beside him in the photo, and though she looked much younger than Ryden had ever seen her, he recognised his mother nevertheless.

And that meant that the man in this photo could only be his father.

Ryden could not help himself. Even as he fought back emotions that threatened to rise up within him, tears began to flow from his eyes once more as he wept for his family; the mother that had been taken from him, and the father that he had never known. Choking back a sob, the young fighter began to tremble as his hands shook, and he carefully set the photo back onto the base of the shrine before he dropped it from in between his shaking fingers.

Taking in a deep breath to calm himself down, Ryden willed his grief and sorrow away, and concentrated on what had to be done. The shaking stopped moments later. The door to the inside of the shrine was only a few steps away, and Ryden stepped over the photograph and threw open the double-doors to the inside of the shrine.

What greeted him inside was nothing like what he had expected.

Ryden had expected that his father's old equipment would be some sort of armor, shield, sword or an axe. He certainly hadn't been expecting to see a pair of gauntlets and greaves floating serenely above a pedestal at the centre of the shrine's interior.

The gauntlets and greaves floated side by side, looking to be the polar opposites of each other yet appearing so similar that they seemed to be one and the same. The greaves, which toes seemed to spread and curve outwards like a beast's talons, seemed to be either sheathed in a layer of ice, or they were_ made _totally out of ice, while the gauntlets, which had spiked knuckles, were wrapped in a layer of flame.

Ryden registered all this in the split-second that the gauntlets and greaves were still motionless atop the dias before they shot straight towards him.

The four blurs slammed into him in brilliant flash of light, and Ryden felt himself being lifted into the air by an invisible force. Blazing heat and numbing cold raced around his body in simultaneous, devastatingly painful arcs, and Ryden could barely keep himself from screaming out in agony as the weapons' power assaulted him.

Still, the son of Dracon fought back. He steeled his mind, and forced his thoughts upon the weapons. _I am the son of Dracon. _He attempted to imprint the thought upon the gauntlets and greaves, and the heat and cold lessened slightly.

_I am the son of Dracon,_ Ryden repeated in his mind more forcefully, conveying the mental message to the gauntlets and greaves as best he could.

Abruptly, the pain stopped, and the two conflicting states of heat vanished from his body, allowing it to return to its normal temperature. Ryden collapsed onto his knees, breathing hard, relieved that the ordeal was over, and he dimly registered that something was covering his hands and his feet.

Opening his eyes, he saw that the gauntlets had affixed themselves to his hands, and now blazed with red-hot flame. Curiously, Ryden felt no heat emanate from the flames despite his close proximity to them, so he assumed that the gauntlets' user was automatically immune to the weapons' effects.

Getting back up onto his feet, he heard an unusual _clunk_ing sound coming from his feet, and he looked down. Similar to the gauntlets, the greaves had affixed themselves to his feet, and the layer of ice around them seemed to have thickened. Oddly, the layer of frost did not affect Ryden's traction on the ground, and there was now an icy vapor that rose from the greaves, indicating the intensifying of its power.

Ryden saw that an inscription had been made on the base of the dias, and he stepped closer, reading the words that had been written in his mother's signature, cursive handwriting.

_With these gauntlets, let Ifrit, the Spirit of Fire, consume your enemies with the fires of Hell._

_With these greaves, let Shiva, the Spirit of Ice, imprison your enemies with the frost of the Arctic._

Ryden inspected the gauntlets and greaves once more before he turned on his heel and strode out of the shrine, the weapons receding from his limbs and disappearing into thin air until needed once more. He had gotten what he'd come for; now it was time for him to go aid the others.

He strode through the portal, and it resealed itself behind him, the rock wall rematerialising until there was no sign that there had been a gap there at all. Ryden strode to the centre of the chamber and tensed his legs, preparing to leap upwards and out of the chamber, when a sudden growling caught his attention.

Odd. Zombie mushmoms weren't supposed to spawn that fast.

Ryden began to reach for Alastor, then decided the better of it, and summoned his new weapons. Fire blazed around his forearms and his legs were encased in ice as Ifrit and Shiva made their appearances once more, and Ryden dropped into a ready stance, preparing himself to face whatever waited for him within the shadows.

What, or rather, who greeted him was someone he had not expected. A rather short but muscular warrior emerged from the darkness, clapping slowly.

"Very impressive, son of Dracon." The stranger drawled. The fighter was not intimidated in the slightest by the immense number of weapons strapped to the newcomer's back, but Ryden's eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the emblem of Necropolis on the stranger's cuirass. Still, this warrior could not possibly be the source of the growling, so Ryden was careful to watch his surroundings for anything unexpected while not focusing too much on the newcomer.

"Who are you?" The fighter asked warily. He could still hear growling in the background, but he could not pinpoint its source; it seemed as though it was coming from all directions at once.

"My name is Raam, Second Daemon Prince of Bera and Council Member of Necropolis. I believe you've met my predecessor, Bale." The short warrior introduced himself with a mock bow, similar to how Dreznor had introduced himself to Ryden years ago. It seemed more like a lifetime to the fighter since that occassion.

"Yes, I have." Ryden replied carefully, keeping his tone neutral. The Daemon Prince stepped closer, and Ryden began to circle around the shorter warrior in response. He heard the growling around him intensify, but for the life of him he still could not pinpoint its source. "What do you want?"

"I see you've managed to recover your father's equipment," Raam continued, as though he hadn't even heard Ryden's question. "Impressive. I'd have thought such powerful weapons were nearly impossible to be wielded by weaklings such as you."

"I'm not weak!" Ryden snapped automatically.

Raam's mouth suddenly split open into a wide, sadistic grin. "We'll just see about that, shall we?"

Before Ryden could respond, the Daemon Prince snapped his fingers once, and suddenly Ryden found himself surrounded by Taurospears. No wonder he couldn't pinpoint the source of the growling previously - because it _had _been coming from all directions!

That was the last coherent thought he had before the Taurospear directly in front of him plunged its spear into his chest.

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger! Since I'm on my last free day before I'll be banned totally from the computer (stupid exams), I'll end off the chapter here. Seemed like an appropriate place to do so, anyway. You know the drill: Review. Now. Pressing that little blue button in the corner can't possibly take up so much of your time. We promise that the updating will be a _lot_ more regular once after 13th November. The more reviews we have, the more regular updates are going to be once our 'O' Levels are over. And for the last time, _Also Sprach Zarathustra_ is a book, and the damned game was named after the book. And yes, I was a Ragnaroker. 

Master and Chief, signing off.


	17. The Burly Brawl

Disclaimer: We don't own Halo 3, Gears of War, BioShock, or anything we ripped… wait a minute. Damn, I've been playing the Xbox 360 too much! This is about Maple!

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. More details about the delay at the end of this chapter. A 'brief' Matrix influence here in this chapter. I just couldn't resist. Anyway it's just one long, extended, one-sided fight scene. Shouldn't be anything you readers can't handle. Oh, and for this fight scene, just imagine that the Tauros are about the size of, say, a SPARTAN-II or an Elite (check the Halo section if you don't know what these are). Makes it easier to imagine the fight going on in your head. 

A/N 2: In one review, somebody asked why we're using names from Revolt of the Archers. Heck, in fact, quite a number of people have been asking that. In case you're not aware, the Chief and Kal are actually pretty good friends, and they've come to an agreement where they can freely use each other's characters in their own stories. So there.

* * *

Chapter 17: The Burly Brawl

A crusader cried out, his breastplate and chest cut open by a demon blade. A white knight near him had no chance to utter a sound, a Tauro's mace crushing in his skull.

Everywhere, the soldiers of the 501st battalion were dying and nothing the Dead Six had done so far had been sufficient to alter that horrific fact. Despite Zeraion's determined figure at the forefront, aided by Tora, Ascion and Roxi, the GDI soldiers were slowly being slaughtered. The horde of monsters gave them no respite, constantly pummeling the lines.

But even knowing he and the rest of his men could very well die here, the young commander fought on, releasing a Final Attack from the Abyssal Arund and decimating a file of Wild Cargos.

He had no other recourse.

* * *

The Taurospear was thrusting its spear forward at a speed of several meters per second, with enough force driving it forward to pierce through several sheets of steel without the slightest deceleration. 

Ryden's armor was one of GDI's current state-of-the-art protective armored suits. His armor's plates were composed of the hardest alloys of mithril and adamantium, field-tested and proven to be resistant to even direct hits from arrow bombs. His chest plates in particular were composed of three inches of this pure protective alloy, and they had shielded his vital organs from many lethal attacks in past occasions.

Not this time.

Ryden's armor had withstood explosions at point-blank range before, but not without suffering considerable damage. The Tauro's spear was striking with a force much greater than any explosion endured before, and the weapon penetrated through his chest plate, skewering him through his ribcage, puncturing his left lung, and exiting through his back in a spray of blood.

The fighter bit back a yell of pain as he staggered backwards from the blow. Two steps back, and he dug his feet into the ground solidly, not allowing the Taurospear to push him any further. The demon grunted in surprise at the level of resistance its prey was displaying, and it pushed the spear inwards with greater force.

This time Ryden couldn't hold back his scream of agony as the spear shifted within him, grinding against his internal organs. But the fighter continued to stand his ground. Fighting through the pain, he forced both his arms up and grabbed the shaft of the spear with both of his fiery gauntlets. Gathering all his might, he began to push back. The flames that enveloped Ifrit blazed with sudden intensity, and the Taurospear's efforts halted as the demon was stunned into inaction at its victim's ability to resist its might.

The other Taurospears surrounding him also let out growls of astonishment and dismay as their comrade's spear was forced out of Ryden's body, inch by bloody inch. Blood squirted out of the gaping hole in the fighter's chest with every movement, and his features were contorted in unspeakable agony. Still, the son of Dracon pushed onward. With a final, desperate shove, the spear emerged from his chest in a shower of crimson, the wound sealing itself in a matter of seconds as the mana particles within his body worked their magic on his wound via his regenerative ability.

The moment the spear left his body however, Ryden had no chance to rest. The entire group of Taurospears descended upon him at once, roaring bloody murder. Spears came at him from all directions, and Ryden did the only thing possible at the moment.

He fought back.

Three large, clawed, demonic hands landed on his right shoulder in an attempt to pin him to the floor. He immediately lashed out with Shiva at the Tauros standing behind him, and simultaneously striking with Ifrit at the Tauros in front. The resulting impact was so hard that the Tauros' grip on his shoulder was completely broken, and the demons were sent flying backwards several feet into the air.

Those that were still attacking paused briefly, demonic mouths agape at the strength that Ryden had just displayed. Their surprise lasted only for a split-second, however, and they immediately resumed their attacks with redoubled fury. Ryden gladly responded in kind.

One punch from Ifrit sent a Taurospear to his left flying through the air with a nasty burn on its chest, and another kick from Shiva sent the Tauro to his right tumbling backwards with its legs ravaged by frostbite. Behind him he could hear the two Tauros that he had kicked back earlier had already gotten back on their feet and were diving into the fight once more. Ryden rewarded their efforts with a backwards reverse roundhouse that smashed across both their demonic faces, sending them falling backwards again.

Just as he finished the roundhouse, he immediately ducked downwards, evading the dual sweeping blows that a pair of Taurospears had thrown at his head in an attempt to decapitate him. Straightening himself back up, he thrust both his elbows backwards, catching the two Tauros right in their faces and stunning them. He then spun around to deal with them more directly, delivering several punches in quick succession that sent the demons reeling back.

Blows suddenly hammered down on his back, and he whirled around to fend off the Tauros that he had kicked back earlier. Several spears were being thrust at him at once, and Ryden did his best to defend against them, guarding against the blows by parrying them aside with his forearms to minimize the damage he suffered. Still, the blows were coming too fast and too hard for him to handle at once, and eventually they penetrated through his defenses. One of the spears jabbed against the center of his chest plate so hard that Ryden was sent stumbling backwards for several steps, right into the waiting arms of two Taurospears.

Without wasting a moment, Ryden grabbed a hold of both the Tauro's furred backs, and using them as leverage, raised both his legs simultaneously and kicked at the Tauros in front of him, knocking them down. The sheer force of the blows then sent him rolling backwards in mid-air, and with his solid grip on the two Tauros behind him, he back flipped around, Shiva smashing into their faces and whacking them silly, felling them.

But it was starting to seem that no matter how he knocked the Tauros away, they would still spring back into the fight. Even as he parried and dodged blows madly while retaliating with his own whenever possible, there seemed to be no end to the battle. Still, he began to fall into this pattern, dodging and parrying before counter-attacking. It was the only way that he could keep the monsters at bay long enough to devise a way out of this mess

It worked perfectly fine for a short while, until he grabbed an incoming spear and shoved it aside before kicking the spear's owner in the face. That left him open briefly to attack, and a Taurospear made full use of that opening. A meaty, demonic fist thrust forward and smashed into his chest plate with enough force to knock out a Cargo's teeth, and Ryden stumbled backwards, his momentum of battle lost.

The sheer might of the blow had sent Ryden stumbling back for long enough that a Taurospear managed to seize him from behind, wrapping its trunk-like arms around him in an attempt to immobilize him. It succeeded in doing so, but only momentarily. Ryden immediately reached behind him, grabbed the harnesses on the Tauro's armor, and gave a mighty pull while bending forward. The result was that the demon was hurled over his shoulder at near terminal velocity, and it was sent flying forward, straight into its cohorts.

Those in front had enough time to see their comrade hurtling straight towards them, and they responded accordingly, dodging out of the way of the makeshift missile that Ryden had made out of the demon. Those behind however, received no warning, and the Tauro that Ryden had tossed landed straight in their midst, knocking down three others and sending them tumbling to the floor in a tangle of writhing limbs.

Standing back up, Ryden kicked at the nearest Tauro that was charging at him, knocking it backwards. Another Tauro came at him from the left, and he jumped straight up into the air, lashing out with Shiva at the demon's neck. The lift that the mid-air blow granted him allowed the fighter to stay in the air long enough to deliver another kick that caught a third attacking Tauro in its stomach. The moment he landed however, another demon took advantage of his momentary recovery to swing its spear at his head.

Ryden raised both his gauntlets in front of his face in an attempt to protect himself, and he succeeded to a certain extent. He spared himself any real physical harm, but the force of the strike sent him flying backwards, flipping end over end. Catching his balance in mid-air, he kick-jumped off an incoming Taurospear and sprang back at the demon that had knocked him into the air.

The dual pile driver kicks that Ryden delivered damn near snapped the Tauro's neck as Shiva slammed into its face, the audible _crack _of its jawbone breaking sounding extremely gratifying to the fighter. Right after he landed and recovered his balance, he took to the air again, delivering a split-kick to the two Tauros that were attempting to flank him. The two demons were knocked away, only to be replaced immediately by another pair. The Tauro on his right thrust its spear at him, and Ryden took a small step backwards, grabbing the shaft of the spear with both hands and allowing the momentum of the blow to carry him into the air, straight towards the other demon. Not wasting a moment, Ryden lashed out with Shiva at the second Tauro, the greave slamming into its demonic visage and knocking the monster flat on the ground.

Simultaneous with the impact of Shiva against the other Tauro's face, he yanked forward on the spear that he was clutching onto, pulling its owner towards him and causing it to fall to the floor. Using the recoil of his kick while maintaining his grip on the demon's spear, he somersaulted around in mid-air and slammed his heel down on the other Tauro's back, nearly breaking it. The demon let out an inhuman roar of pain, and its cohorts were spurred on to greater fury.

One of the Tauros attacked as Ryden was getting back onto his feet, and the fighter stopped the thrust cold by catching it with both hands. But before he could get a chance to counter-attack, the Tauro swung its spear again mightily, this time in an overhand sweep that was intended to shake Ryden off. It succeeded; Ryden lost his grip and was sent tumbling through the air, coming to a crashing stop in a bed of rocks near the side of the chamber that shattered as he landed.

The Tauro immediately leapt straight at Ryden, intending on stomping its downed prey into the ground, but Ryden saw the demon coming and pushed against the ground with both his legs, propelling himself out of the Tauro's way. The demon's feet smashed straight into the spot that Ryden had occupied previously, and Ryden flipped back onto his feet right behind the demon, delivering a twin hammer blow with Ifrit straight into its back. The Tauro shot forward like a missile, plunging straight into the rock wall of the chamber and leaving a sizable dent, the impact instantly killing the demon. Its corpse slowly fell to the ground, its fallen spear embedding itself in the floor next to it.

Ryden took no notice of this; he was too busy fighting off the other Tauros. They were attacking more ferociously now, and it was all Ryden could do not to be overwhelmed. Parrying madly, for he had no chance to dodge any longer, his movements slowed due to exhaustion just enough for a Tauro to catch him in his midsection. The blow sent him reeling backwards, right into the arms of another Tauro once again.

Before he could break the demon's grip on him, another Tauro charged forth and slammed its fist against Ryden's jaw, hammering the fighter silly for a moment. Ryden immediately lashed out with a kick at the attacking Tauro, followed by another to deter a second demon that attempted to follow its comrade's actions.

He struggled briefly against the Tauro's grip, and when it was apparent that it wasn't going to be broken any time soon, he instead threw himself into a forward flip. That did the trick; the Tauro's grip was broken completely, and the demon was completely thrown off of him, tossed straight into its comrades this time so quickly that none of them had a chance to dodge.

As the demons recovered and reorganized themselves, Ryden took a brief glance around and was shocked to discover that at least a dozen dead Tauros were now lying on the ground. His first thought was that his strength must now be truly immense if he could slay a dozen of these demons with his bare hands, and his second thought was _how many of the damned monsters were there?_ He could have sworn only eight Tauros had surrounded him when the fight began.

Then the monsters resumed their charge, and Ryden began fighting for his life again, parrying aside an incoming spear and retaliating with a double-kick so hard that its wielder was propelled straight into the wall several feet above them, leaving behind a sizable impact crater and dropping to the floor with a loud _thump.

* * *

_

Raam's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the ongoing fight. Despite the constant reinforcement that his minions were receiving, the son of Dracon had proven most resilient so far. The Daemon Prince had to admit a grudging respect for the fighter's ability, as he watched Ryden kick the Tauro so hard that the demon was sent flying straight into the wall.

The Crimson Balrog that stood next to him snarled in frustration as it watched another of its subordinates perish.

_Shall I summon more, my lord?_ The arch demon hissed in its native tongue. The rudimentary translation spell that Raam had cast on himself allowed him to understand the Balrog to some extent; there was still the residual hissing that occurred whenever the demon pronounced an 'S', and Raam had to filter through that so he could understand the demon's speech.

Raam considered this for a moment, then replied, "Yes, but not all of them. Just throw in a couple more dozen. Let's see how the son of Dracon handles this."

* * *

More and more the monstrous horde crushed the lines of the defenders. Zeraion barely kept his soldiers from being ripped apart, but they continued to give ground. 

A fierce battering ram created by Ascion plowed into the demons, tossing several back and digging deep into the horde. It slowed them down in that one place, but everywhere else the swarm continued to advance.

From somewhere, the cleric could hear his brother shouting orders. "Strengthen that right flank! Archers! Take out those Crimson Balrogs! Latosius, get your magicians back!"

It was hard to say if the officer-in-charge of the magicians heard his leader's command, but, either way, the spellcasters remained where they were. Latosius stood at the forefront, ordering this mage or that to deal with various situations. Ascion grimaced. The older magician had no concept of tactics. He wasted what relatively little might his group had on several miniscule attacks rather than on one concentrated effort.

Roxi saw this, too. "The damned old idiot's making no use of them at all! I could lead them better!"

"Forget them, concentrate on your own spells-"

But even as the cleric said this, Latosius suddenly reeled. He grabbed at his throat and slumped over, blood pouring from his mouth. His skin blackened and he collapsed, clearly dead already.

"No!" Ascion surveyed the horde, found the warlock, and pointed with the Divine Fist.

Using the trick earlier by perhaps this same dark wizard, Ascion seized several arrows in flight and sent them hurtling down upon the warlock. The robed figure glanced up, saw the bolts, and simply laughed. He gestured in a manner Ascion assumed created a defensive shield around him.

The warlock ceased laughing when each bolt not only penetrated his shield, but also went _through _his torso.

"Not as strong as you think, are you?" Muttered the cleric in grim satisfaction.

Ascion turned again to Roxi – only to find the latter gone. He looked around, found the determined young wizard running madly toward the magicians, who seemed in complete disarray without their commanding officer.

"What does she-?" But Ascion had no time to worry about his squadmate, for incredible heat suddenly surrounded him. He felt as though his skin was about to melt.

The Necropolis warlocks had finally identified him as a major threat. More than one certainly had to be attacking him. He managed to summon enough strength from the Divine Fist to momentarily ease the incredible heat, but no more. Slowly, they were cooking him alive.

So this was it. Here he would die, never knowing if his part in this battle would save his comrades or if they were still doomed to die here.

Then… the intense pressure on him all but ceased. Ascion reacted instinctively, using his magic and the Divine Fist's power to completely counter the remaining danger. His eyes cleared and he finally managed a fix on the key spellcaster.

"You like fire? I like it a little cooler."

The cleric reversed the spell cast on him, sending at its user an intense wave of cold.

Ascion sensed the bitter chill overwhelm the warlock. The Necropolis magician stiffened, turning a pale white. His expression contorted, freezing in mid-agony.

One of the Tauros bumped the warlock. The frozen figure toppled, striking the hard ground with a harsh crash and scattering bits of iced warlock over the battlefield.

Trying to catch his breath, Ascion looked to the magicians, the direction from which he had felt aid come. His eyes widened as he saw Roxi at their head.

The young fire wizard smiled his way, then turned back to the struggle. She directed the veteran mages as if born to it. Roxi had them aligning in arrays that magnified what little strength they had through _her_. She, in turn, drew forth their power, thereby increasing the intensity of her own spells.

An eruption in the midst of the demonic legion destroyed scores of demons there. Roxi let out a triumphant cheer, unaware of the strain now on the faces of the other magicians. She had used their power to good effect, but if she repeated such steps too often, the magicians would burn out one by one.

But there was nothing Ascion could do to let Roxi know that and, in truth, he was not all that certain he should try. If the defenders fell here, who else was there to continue the fight?

If only they hadn't split up with Ark…

* * *

Nevan looked upon the battlefield and was pleased. The horde, at her command, had swept across the land, crushing all resistance in their path. Thus far the horde's numbers had been dwindling, but not as rapidly as those of the GDI army. The attrition of this battle was in their favor, and Nevan knew victory was only a matter of time. 

And victory meant paving the way for her master, Kain. The glorious Kain would be pleased with all that had been accomplished in his name. He would reward Nevan well, for the sorceress had managed this feat without having to ask for the aid of her fellow council members.

Yes, Nevan would be rewarded well, receiving more favor, more power, among the guild.

An aide stepped up to her and delivered a regular update.

"My lady, the horde's numbers are dwindling more quickly than we anticipated. The GDI army is fighting back more fiercely, and our losses are increasing. Our sentries also report that another two companies are closing in quickly, most probably to aid their comrades, and another battalion is entering the forest. The estimated time of arrival of the two companies is three minutes, and it will take another four for the second battalion to arrive."

The sorceress briefly considered this new piece of information, and then quickly decided that an alteration of her own tactics would be best.

"Order our soldiers to attack. Let them aid the monsters in crushing this pitiful resistance first. When GDI's so-called 'backup' arrives, the only thing left for them to save will be the corpses of their comrades."

* * *

"All archers to the front! Follow and fire at will the moment we're within range! _Leave no monster alive!_" Ark roared to his troops as they took off through the forest with him. The bowmen of his company immediately sprinted past the fighter and took up positions in front of him, running for all their worth. 

Ahead of them they could hear the sounds of a raging battle, and though it seemed physically impossible, Ark ran even faster. If his brothers were still alive, Ark fully intended to do everything in his power to ensure that they remained so.

One of his junior officers sprinted up to his side, clearly struggling to keep pace with the racing warrior. "Sir, our scouts have reported that the Necropolis troops have begun to enter the battle to support the monsters. At this rate, whether or not we arrive at the battle won't make a difference; companies one and four will be wiped out before we get there."

"Like hell they will." Ark muttered beneath his breath before he shouted more orders to his soldiers. "Come on people, double-time it! It's up to us to save the others! _Let's move!_"

Again it seemed to be physically impossible, but the entire force sped up its sprinting along with its commanding officer.

* * *

Miles away in Henesys, another commanding officer was equally frantic, albeit not moving as quickly as Ark. 

"Get those arrays lined up! Mages, get into your positions! We have only one chance to get things right!" Grace Raizen shouted out to the soldiers of the 412th regiment. Her subordinates hurried to carry out her orders, the troopers lining themselves up in orderly rows while the mages positioned themselves in arrays that would allow them to cast a mass teleportation spell.

Grace knew that if they attempted to rush to the 501st aid on foot, the battalion would be decimated before they were halfway there. Their only chance was to attempt a mass teleportation arte that would instantaneously transport the entire regiment to the battle site so as to render the beleaguered 501st the aid it so desperately needed.

But such an attempt was very dangerous, for a teleportation arte of such a great scale could go wrong in many ways, more ways than Grace could be bothered to count. Just for a few examples, the entire battalion could end up being transported to an entirely different location – right above a steaming volcano, for all they knew – or they could even end up being 'splinched' – where various body parts of the many soldiers being teleported could be left behind while the rest of the body was teleported to the destination.

All it took was the slightest mistake, the smallest misalignment in the array, and everything could go wrong. This was why Grace was so frantic; having to organize such a massive-scale arte, while simultaneously worrying her head off about whether Zeraion was still alive. One of the magicians fidgeted, shifting an inch out of his designated position in the array, and Grace instantly registered it.

"Krases! Get back in position! You're out of alignment!" Grace shouted to the wizard. The spellcaster looked alarmed at his commanding officer's sudden outburst, and quickly checked to confirm that, to his chagrin, he was indeed out of position.With a sheepish expression, Krases moved back into his place, and Grace checked over the array once more.

Satisfied that everything was correctly in place, she gave the order to the mages for them to begin the casting.

Incantations were murmured, power was drawn from within, mana particles were channeled, and the teleportation array began to glow. Just as the world began to fade around her, Grace muttered a prayer beneath her breath, praying to the gods that they were not too late…

* * *

Ryden spun himself backwards in a half-circle, lashing out with Shiva backwards as he halted his spin. The kick knocked backwards the Tauro that was charging at him from behind, but before he could turn to deal with those that were attacking from in front, their spears plowed against his chest plate, sending him flying backwards, to a hard landing on his back. 

Quickly recovering, he flipped back onto his feet, dealing blows to all the Tauros that attempted to close in with him. He jumped up and dealt a lightning-fast split-kick in mid-air, hammering two Tauros away, followed by a one-handed parry on each of the two spears that were thrust in his direction the following moment. He tossed aside the Tauros that were holding onto the spears he just parried, and glanced to the side just long enough for him to catch a glimpse of a small section of the chamber's rock wall collapse.

What came through the new hole was a whole slew of fresh, new Taurospears. Ryden nearly did a double take at this new sight, and he swiftly shifted his attention to the Tauro that was currently charging him, knocking its spear aside with a backhanded blow before retaliating with a kick to its hideous face.

The fresh wave of Tauros began to emerge from the hole they had created in the wall, and in the meantime another hole was opened on the opposite side of the chamber, sending more of the demons streaming in. Ryden turned to defend himself against this new threat, and was rewarded with a series of blows against his chest armor so hard that he was sent flipping end over end backwards, straight towards the chamber wall.

Regaining his balance in mid-air, he prevented himself from suffering a hard landing, orienting himself so that he kick-jumped off he wall instead, and he shot forward straight into the throng of demons, plowing down the vanguard with a fist to each of their guts. He proceeded to deal more punishing attacks to those immediately around him, pounding them into the ground, until he realized that more Tauros were maneuvering to surround him.

Leaping into the air, he kick-jumped off a nearby Tauro that had foolishly sought to follow him skyward, and used the momentum of the jump to carry him, flipping forward several times, straight back into the center of the chamber.

The horde, which had followed him to the side of the chamber, now streamed towards him once more. Ryden began to resort to more and more bombastic maneuvers – spinning around several times in mid-air before delivering a killing blow, using a Tauro as a makeshift pole by grappling it and spinning around it to kick at other nearby enemies – none of these seemed to improve his situation one bit. No matter how many demons he killed, more arrived to take their place.

Desperate for any respite, no matter how brief it was, he parried aside one Tauro's spear and used the demon as a springboard, jumping atop its helmet and kicking off of it, propelling himself backwards, far away from the mass of demons.

He was only a dozen meters away from them when another Tauro leapt out of nowhere and tackled him to the floor. The grappling duo rolled for several times before Ryden found his hands and feet and quickly picked himself up, dealing a quick kick to the still-prone Tauro's stomach that folded the demon in half and sent it sliding it back into the horde from which it had come.

Most of the Tauros managed to dodge the incoming projectile, leaping over it just as it threatened to knock them over, and they continued their charge towards the son of Dracon largely undeterred. Ryden began to deliver several roundhouse kicks in succession in an attempt to drive them back, gaining momentum successively until the recoil of one of his kicks actually propelled him into the air. He made good use of this unexpected boon, twisting himself around in mid-air and smashing Shiva across one Tauro's face, sending it spinning to the ground.

Landing back on his feet, he grabbed an incoming Tauro's spear in a defensive hold and twisted himself around until he was inside its guard, slamming his elbow into the demon's temple and toppling it. More Tauros attacked as he released his hold on the spear, and before he could begin to counter-attack, they clamped their claws down upon him and locked him in place before releasing a collective blow that crashed against his chest plate. The result was that the fighter was sent flying straight backwards for several feet, and his brief flight was halted only by the chamber wall, smashing back-first into it and leaving behind a small crater.

Ryden dropped to the floor, landing on one knee, the breath knocked out of his lungs. Gasping for air, he shook his head to clear his senses and, looking up only to see the horde charging at him once again, he got to his feet to look for anything that could possibly aid him in his fight.

He briefly considered drawing Alastor, but he quickly discovered, much to his shock and dismay, that the usage of the gauntlets and greaves somehow prevented him from summoning his Deathbringer. Desperate for _any_ alternative, he rapidly glanced around, and finally noticed the Tauro corpse that lay beside him, along with the broken spear that was embedded in the ground next to its still hands.

Dashing forward, he clamped Ifrit down upon the broken spear's shaft and pulled with all his might. The end of the spear that was embedded in the ground emerged with series of mighty cracking sounds as the rock gave way, with a large chunk of concrete-like rock still stuck around it. Ryden brandished it as he would a bo staff, spinning it around several times before slamming the end with the rock stuck on it straight into the sternum of an approaching Tauro.

The chunk of rock shattered like glass, and the Tauro's ribs did the same. The demon was sent tumbling aside, its inhuman features contorted in agony as it clutched at its bloodied chest. The demon's compatriots paused momentarily, staring at their fallen comrade's corpse for several long seconds before looking back at Ryden.

In response, the fighter swung his staff through a flourishing velocity so fast that his stolen spear transformed into a blur that formed a sphere of blows around him, deterring any who sought to get closer. As he finished he rested one end of the spear on his right shoulder, leaning so that his left side faced his foes, and he spread his left arm out in a mocking gesture, goading them on to attack. The cocky smirk on his face only served to piss the Tauros off further, and the demons gladly charged forth with bloodlust in their eyes.

Ryden swung his makeshift staff in a final gesture of defiance before the horde descended upon him, and he disappeared beneath their numbers.

* * *

The world stopped spinning around her, and Grace nearly keeled over as a massive wave of nausea washed over her. If there was one thing she hated about being a magician, it was that no matter how many times she cast a long-range teleportation spell, she could never get used to the stomach-churning queasiness that the arte would cause. 

Those around her fared little better. Most of the archers and thieves were on their hands and knees, puking their guts out, while the warriors were bent over like she was, clutching at their stomachs with green faces. The mages fared little better than the warriors, and a handful of the less experienced magicians had succumbed to the nausea, on their hands and knees like the archers and thieves and puking their guts out.

Thankfully, Grace had designated the destination of the teleportation spell to be only half a klick from the battle site, giving them the time and distance they would need to recover from the teleportation spell – it would only take them a minute to arrive.

Grace was the first to recover, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up her throat, and she quickly rallied her troops.

"All officers! Sound off! I need a sit rep!" She shouted, and six soldiers stepped up to her, three of them still wiping off small remnants of vomit off from their mouths. The other three still had green faces, and one of them looked on the verge of vomiting.

"The short-term effects of the teleportation are wearing off, general." One of the officers reported. "We'll be ready to move in a few moments."

"Good." Grace replied, relieved that the teleportation had not impaired her troops' ability to fight. "How are the archers and thieves holding up?"

"They're doing fine, ma'am." The officers-in-charge of the two companies replied. "Most of them had already recovered when you summoned us."

"All right." Grace concluded. "Get the soldiers ready to move out. We still have allies to save." Turning around to survey the regiment, she dispatched her officers back to their companies and, pulling a small hair band from her robe pocket, bound her long mane of blonde hair tightly into a ponytail to prevent it from getting in her way.

Turning away from her army and towards the forest where the soldiers of the 501st were fighting for their lives, Grace summoned her wand from its holster on her hip, the Magicodar slipping from the sheath and sliding smoothly into her palm. Twirling the wand in between her fingers, she cast a brief spell that eliminated the nausea from her body, clearing her mind and steeling her body for what lay ahead.

The battle could still be salvaged, the men of the 501st saved, but only if they acted quickly.

Turning back to face the 412th, Grace drew in a deep breath and shouted out the order to mobilize.

* * *

"Sir, the demons will be within range in moments! Shall I give the order to fire to the archers?" The aide that was running beside Ark inquired. 

The sprinting captain briefly considered this, and replied, "Have the archers target the Necropolis troops that are moving to aid in the fight. Get the magicians to support them. All thieves will move ahead and launch a preemptive strike at the horde, the warriors will follow up with a backup charge soon after."

The aide nodded and broke away, falling back so as to deliver his captain's orders to the warriors and thieves who were further back. Soon after, the magicians moved past him, running to join the archers in front, and Ark slowed down his pace so as to join the warriors behind him. It wouldn't do much good if he charged in ahead of his men and attempted to take on the horde solo.

It was several moments later before the battle sirens sounded, and Ark heard the signature screeching of volleys of arrows being launched into the air. Joining the warriors behind him, he prepared himself for the battle ahead, and the charge that was to come.

As they cleared the forest and broke into the immense clearing where the battle was taking place, Ark could see that the situation was much more dire than he had anticipated. The soldiers of companies one and four were being decimated by the monsters, and already behind the horde he could see the Necropolis troops attempting to join the battle, slowed down only by the archers of his companies.

"All archers, maintain your fire on the Necropolis troops!" Ark roared out. "Thieves, launch a pre-emptive strike on the horde! Warriors, prepare to charge on my command!"

It was only moments later before the horde fell into disarray as a number of the demons were slain by invisible blades, followed immediately by the appearance of the bandits and assassins. Both were merely indistinct blurs of movement, the former surrounded by several flashes of steel as they threw Savage Blows left and right, while brief twin glints of metal shot forth from the latter before revealing themselves to be throwing stars shortly after embedding themselves within the vital organs of various monsters.

"_Forward!_ Give no quarter!" Ark bellowed as he charged forth, brandishing both his Reavers. The warriors behind him followed a second later, uttering a war cry that drowned out Ark's own shout and nearly deafened him.

The group of warriors rushed forward, unsheathing their own weapons and raising them, the Dragon Knights moving to the forefront of the formation to bring their spears to bear. The formation at first rammed straight into the packed horde of monsters, and then proceeded to slice through like a hot knife through butter. The Dragon Knights, keeping to regular tactics, abandoned their useless spears and did battle with their pole arms, while the Crusaders and White Knights charged forward with the Dragon Knights and joined in the fight.

Ark was at the forefront, slicing and dicing his way through with his dual blades. No monster stood in his way for more than a moment; even Taurospears were instantly cut down by the power of the Reavers. The fighter slashed his way through the horde, giving no quarter. Demons fell to his blades by the dozens, and Ark leapt straight into the air, kicking off a nearby Wild Cargo before directing himself back down and slamming both Reavers straight into the ground.

The resulting impact sent the scores of demons around him flying in all directions, clearing a sizable area around the fighter. Raising his head, he hollered out his brothers' names, hoping for a reply. When there was none, Ark cursed and took off into the horde again, swinging his weapons in a wild flurry that disemboweled all the Tauros near him.

He would find and save his brothers no matter what.

* * *

Zeraion felt it. He felt the sudden surge of support, the surge of strength. In his heart, he knew what this meant; each of his brothers, at a very young age, had a special enchantment placed upon them – one that would boost their strength and power whenever the brothers were in close proximity. A 'family protection' enchantment, you could call it. The boost provided intensified whenever any of the brothers were experiencing intense emotions, and from the surge of vitality that Zeraion had experienced just now, this meant only one thing. 

Ark was here to save them.

Immediately he looked to the rear of his army, at Ascion, to see if his younger brother had sensed the same. Zeraion need not have worried, though, for Ascion clearly had experienced the same rush of strength as he had.

His morale soaring, Zeraion looked upon his soldiers and the battle with renewed confidence and determination. Truly he now thought himself to be unbeatable by any force.

Even by the legion of monsters that he faced now.

At his command, battle sirens blared once more. Inspired on by their leader, the GDI soldiers gave a collective roar well matching anything emitted prior by the demons. The front lines of the horde faltered, not at all certain what this abrupt change meant.

"Have at them!" shouted Zeraion.

The 501st surged forward. Demons suddenly found themselves harried like never before. Cargos were slaughtered before they could make their way back to the horde. Tauros dropped one after another as each time the 501st's weapons struck true. The encroaching swarm was stopped dead in its tracks.

Roxi led the magicians against the monsters, continuing to guide their efforts through her own spells. Purple smog materialized within the horde, rippling through it. Several of the demons fell to their knees, choking and coughing before finally vomiting out bucketfuls of blood and then collapsing to the ground, dead. Several of the winged Balrogs burst into flames as they darted overhead, becoming instead fiery missiles that added further mayhem to their own ranks.

Ascion did not stay out of the battle either. With the memories of all those who had died this day and all those who would perish in the future war in mind, he struck again and again at the ones responsible. A Necropolis warlock who foolishly sought to match him was enveloped by his own robes, which twisted tightly until they snapped the dark wizard in twain. From the cleric then came a punishing series of holy lightning bolts that methodically hunted down other spellcasters within the horde, leaving only slight piles of ash to mark the former foes.

For the first time, true pandemonium broke out among the fearsome warriors. This was not the battle expected, the bloodshed desired. There was nothing here now save their own deaths, a prospect even the demons found daunting.

Their lines buckled. The GDI army pushed forward.

"We have them now!" shouted Zeraion. "Give them no quarter!"

The defenders rallied further around his cry. Despite the imposing size of the monsters, the 501st advanced undaunted.

And Ascion and Roxi continued to aid Zeraion in paving the way to victory. The cleric looked up, spying several of the savage Crimson Balrogs plummeting towards the defenders. As ever, the arch demons had rolled themselves up into balls, dropping like boulders to create the most disastrous results.

For once, Ascion made use of Roxi's tactics. With his newfound strength from which to draw, he created a huge golden barrier in the sky, one that the Crimson Balrogs could not avoid. The barrier was not simply a wall, however, for Ascion had another purpose in mind. He shaped it according to those desires, curving it and forcing the demons that crashed into it to bounce instead in the direction he chose.

The very midst of their own army.

Even the bolts he had cast down upon the demons earlier could not have done as much devastation as the fearsome behemoths did now. More than two dozen Crimson Balrogs struck the horde's center at various points, decimating the ranks and creating huge, smoking craters. The bodies of the enemy flew everywhere, crashing down upon others and multiplying the damage tenfold.

From far to his side, the cleric heard triumphant laughter. Roxi clapped her hands in honor of her squadmate's successful effort, then pointed at the harried enemy with the Fiery Phoenix and snapped her fingers.

A part of the legion's left flank suddenly burst into flame, floundering, many of them immediately sinking to their knees. Inhuman screams of agony issued from the wizard's victims as they were burnt to a crisp, blackened and charred.

With a wave of her hand, the young woman intensified the strength of the inferno she had created until the flames consumed and erased all trace of her victims. Another wave extinguished the blaze, and she turned to Ascion and gave him a cocky smirk.

Ascion kept his expression set, only nodding again. If nothing else, Roxi surely kept the demons at bay.

At last, under such brutal assault, the horde of monsters did the only thing it could do – retreat en masse.

There was no horn, no call. The demons simply began to back away. The Necropolis warlocks kept a semblance of order, but clearly it was all they could do to maintain that much. Even still, they did not move fast enough to suit the defenders, who took full advantage of the victory.

Here and there, pockets of resistance remained, but the eager soldiers quickly whittled those down. Tauros lay everywhere. Zeraion had no doubt that each soldier thought about the countless dead the horde had already left in its wake. There had to have been so many friends and loved ones among the casualties of this battle.

Speaking of loved ones, the hunter still wondered where Ark was, because he could sense that the fighter was here too, in the battle, but far away from him now.

Straining his eyes and neck to see, he noticed that the numbers of the right flank of the retreating horde had been severely thinned out, much more than the rest. A group of warriors were still battling with the demons and winning, but they were clearly ahead of Phoenix's own troops. One of the warriors leapt into the air briefly before slamming straight into the ground again, sending scores of demons around him flying.

With an amused chuckle, Zeraion rested easy in the knowledge that he now knew where his brother was.

* * *

Ark endured the impact of his landing readily, rising to his feet once more. The immediate area around him was totally clear, the dive bomb he had performed earlier having sent all the Tauros around him flying in all directions. 

He was about to take off through the horde again when he heard a familiar voice shout out his name from behind.

_Nah… it couldn't be. _Ark thought to himself with a wry smile before turning around. Indeed, several meters right behind him, and clear from the battle due to the horde's retreat, were his brothers. Zeraion looked quite battered, his armor having several dents and scratch marks, while Ascion appeared pretty much unharmed, albeit very exhausted.

"Damn, you guys!" Ark shouted back. Relief was a physical thing, perched on his shoulders. "You have any idea how worried I was!?"

Sprinting towards them, the fighter dropped both his Reavers before enveloping both his brothers in a crushing bear hug, ignoring his youngest brother's protesting and sputtering.

A hand slapped insistently on his back, and he dimly noted Zeraion rasping out, "Ark! _Air!!!_" Finally remembering that bear hugs generally prevented people from breathing, the fighter put down his siblings.

"Damnit guys, I thought you were dead!" Ark exclaimed exhaustedly.

"We nearly were, thanks to you." Ascion muttered under his breath, rubbing his chest sorely. Thankfully, his sarcasm went unheard by Ark, as the latter was listening to Zeraion.

"Actually, we nearly were, but apparently your timely arrival saved us all." Zeraion gave his elder brother a grateful smile and thumped him on the shoulder. "Well done, bro."

"Always glad to be of help." The axe-fighter then glanced in the direction of the retreating horde, and picked up his fallen weapons. "So, we gonna finish this?"

Grinning, Zeraion unlimbered the Abyssal Arund and strung in an arrow. "To the death."

* * *

The Tauros managed to overwhelm him only momentarily. With a wide swing, Ryden sent those immediately around him flying, and he himself took to the air in a large bound, spinning like a top with the spear outstretched as he soared back to the center of the chamber. 

Landing steadily on his feet, he lashed out with his stolen spear at the nearest approaching Tauro, knocking it straight into the air. Those who followed suffered the same fate, either to be sent flying with a single whack or to be pounded straight into the ground.

The demons moved to surround him again, and Ryden tumbled all of them by spinning himself and his spear around in a low, wide arc. All the Tauros around him were knocked off their feet, and another one that was further away sought to tackle Ryden as the fighter was recovering from his attack.

No such luck. As he straightened himself back up, Ryden struck the lunging Tauro with a backhanded swing, sending it flying backwards, flipping end over end.

The fight continued this way for several long moments, with Ryden swinging the stolen spear this way and that, smacking Tauros around and into the air and generally owning the entire fight. Clearly, the conflict was getting one-sided.

And this was all too apparent to Raam as Ryden sent one of the Tauros flying in his direction, the demon's limp body crashing into a ground and sliding to a stop right in front of the Daemon Prince's feet.

With a growl, he turned to the Crimson Balrog standing beside him and snarled, "_More._"

* * *

Swinging the spear left and right, Ryden floored two Tauros, then held it horizontal and jammed it between the following pair of demons. Using the spear as leverage, he swung below it and delivered a backwards split-kick, knocking down another two Tauros. Stepping down back onto the floor, he simultaneously karate chopped the necks of the two Tauros that he had used to jam his spear, and his weapon dropped free. 

Only momentarily. In mid-drop, Ryden hit his knee against the spear to send it flying forward, its brief movement halted only by the rushing Taurospear in front of him. The spear rebounded backwards, and Ryden grabbed it out of the air to use it as a makeshift pole, leaping into the air and kicking at another Tauro.

Another assailant suddenly grabbed him from behind and sent them reeling forward. Struggling, Ryden barely managed to get the spear under his attacker and broke the demon's grip with a mighty upward pull, sending it tumbling and flipping straight into a group of its cohorts.

The sound of rock crumbling caught his attention, and he briefly glanced at the side of the chamber, only to be rewarded with a sight that he could have dealt with if he hadn't been fighting so many Taurospears already.

_Good God… how many more of these things _are _there?_ Ryden thought to himself before diving into the fight once more. Two more openings had opened in the sides of the chamber, and out of those opening streamed out _more_ Taurospears.

The horde's size steadily grew as the Taurospears joined the fight, until it was half a dozen meters long in radius. Ryden stood in the epicenter of it all, fighting with all his strength. Swinging his spear left and right with all his might, he spun it around several times, striking out at several nearby enemies before leaping straight into the air and flipping until he was upside down. He then thrust his spear straight down, impaling the Tauro that had sought to tackle him from behind and pinning the demon into the ground.

But the moment he landed, another demon's spear struck him in the chest, and he was sent flying through the horde. Jamming the spear straight into the ground, his forward momentum was halted and turned into circular movement as he kicked at all surrounding Tauros, knocking them all backwards as he spun round and round his makeshift pole like a top until all surrounding demons had been toppled.

Landing back on his feet, he expended the last of his momentum by slamming the spear into a nearby Tauro, shattering its ribs and felling it. More of them demons surrounded him again, and before he could move to defend himself, one of them slammed into him from above, knocking him senseless for a moment and causing him to lose grip of his spear.

The Tauro that landed on him took advantage of the warrior's momentary disorientation to deliver a crushing blow that had the fighter flying straight through the horde, toppling several other demons that he impacted against and knocking them aside like bowling pins.

Slamming to a halt, Ryden immediately kicked out at the crotch of the nearest Tauro, causing the demon to bend over in pain as its unfortunate genitals were crushed. Ryden leapt atop the kneeling demon, and proceeded to attempt to head-walk across the horde, back to safety, by kicking off the heads of pursuing Tauros. The demons leapt at him, grabbing and snarling, and it was all Ryden could do to avoid falling into their clutches.

One of the demons leapt higher than the others, almost straight at him, and Ryden leaned to the side just in time to avoid it. However, the Tauro had brushed too close, and Ryden was now off-balance, making him easy prey for another lunge.

The Tauros did not miss this opportunity. Another one of the demons lunged at the off-balance warrior, tackling him straight in the stomach and pinning him to the floor. The other demons promptly leapt upon the prone duo, piling themselves upon Ryden until they were nothing more than a heap of bodies.

And right at the bottom of the pile was Ryden. The immense weight pressing down on his back did not help matters at all, and he struggled uselessly against the crushing pressure. The demons laying atop of him began to speak as one, no doubt conveying their masters' message to their victim, and the collective growling of inhumanly distorted voices grated against Ryden's ears, but he understood the message nonetheless.

**_It is inevitable…_**

_LIKE HELL IT IS!_ Ryden thought furiously to himself before pushing harder than ever. The thought that he was going to die here, beneath a heap of Tauros like some obscene gangbang victim – it was too undignified for him to tolerate. He could practically hear Astella's voice whispering in his ear, telling him to get up.

**Come on… get out of there…**

A mighty cry of effort tore itself from his throat, and Ryden gave the mightiest push of his life so far. Ifrit flared with blazing, volcanic power on his hands, and an explosion of devastating magnitude erupted from the fighter, sending the Tauros on top of him soaring in all directions. As the demons' bodies fell to the ground all around him like rain, Ryden grabbed one of the bodies in mid-drop and held on to both its ankles, spinning it around him like a rodeo for a few seconds before throwing it straight into the Tauros that were still standing.

The effect was unprecedentedly lethal – the Tauros were knocked over, once more like bowling pins, and several necks were broken in the process. Realizing that there was no way he could win this fight, Ryden resolved to do the only thing he had left to do – retreat.

Gathering strength in his legs and focusing them into Shiva, he took a powerful bound that carried him straight to the top of the chamber. Grabbing onto the edge of the rocky crevice that would lead to the chamber's exit, he flipped himself up and darted through the exit before any of the Taurospears could give chase.

Not that they could have anyway. None of the Tauros could climb the rope ladders that led up to that same crevice, and neither could any of them could jump that high.

Raam strode to the center of the chamber, through the horde of gathered Taurospears, and stared up at the crevice where the son of Dracon had escaped. The Crimson Balrog lumbered up to his side, pushing aside the Taurospears to make way for its larger bulk, and glanced down at its master.

_Shall we give chase, my lord?_ The Balrog hissed in its hideously distorted voice, its serpentine tongue wrapping itself uncomfortable around the human language.

Raam continued to gaze at the crevice for several moments before he turned away and began to walk off.

"No. He could be anywhere in the Ant Tunnels by now. Mounting a search will take too much time and manpower. We'll just report to the guildmaster and say that time wasn't on our side."

* * *

Zeraion's morale, which had been soaring moments ago, now plummeted with a loud _thump_, the same sound being echoed by a GDI soldier's body landing on the ground close to him. 

Victory had been so certain, so close; Zeraion had led his troops in a bloody rout against the retreating horde, inflicting massive casualties upon the enemy. Everything had been going well…

Until the Necropolis soldiers finally intervened. The enemy soldiers had charged straight into the battle, slaughtering GDI soldier and monster alike. Nothing stood in their path for very long, and soon they had come to dominate the entire battle.

Each individual Necropolis soldier had an advantage against a GDI soldier man-to-man, and even with the additional reinforcements provided by Ark's companies, the Necropolis battalion had still proven too much for them. Already weary from the battle against the horde of monsters, the GDI battalion could do little to resist the might of their new opponents.

Especially so for their leader, Nevan. As the two opposing armies duked it out around them, Zeraion and Ascion squared off against the Necropolis commander. Ark was busy aiding the soldiers of the 501st fight off the enemy grunts, but his help would have been greatly appreciated now.

The Chaos Sorceress had successfully fended off the two attackers so far, and did not show any sign of wearing down. In fact, she seemed as fresh as she had when the fight had started, whereas Zeraion and Ascion were rapidly tiring.

Growling in frustration, the hunter raised the Abyssal Arund and released an Inferno Strafe at the Chaos Sorceress. With a smug grin, Nevan turned the attack away by summoning an energy shield, the quartet of fireballs dissipating harmlessly against the protective barrier.

"Honestly, this is pathetic." Nevan laughed mockingly as she gracefully leapt aside to avoid a blast of holy energy bolts from Ascion. "I'd have expected more from the sons of Rafael Wolfen and Avelyn Blade."

"You. Just. Wait." Zeraion ground out in between shots. "You. Haven't seen. NOTHING YET!!!" The hunter screamed as he finally abandoned attempting to shoot the Chaos Sorceress with the Arund and instead summoned his Thunder Spear with a shout.

"DIVINE IMPALEMENT!"

Leaping forward, he instantly closed the gap between him and his target, slamming his Thunder Spear down. Nevan barely managed to dodge the blow, twisting aside and leaping backwards a moment before Zeraion's spear would have pierced her heart, but she still did not escape unscathed. The spear was instead thrust straight into the ground, and an immense blast of lightning surged upwards, singing Nevan badly and sending the sorceress flying through the air.

Recovering her balance in mid-fall, she landed gracefully on her feet and quickly summoned an energy shield to block Ascion's subsequent attack, the barrier barely managing to block the Photon Splash.

Coming to the realization that fighting two of them simultaneously was dangerous, Nevan quickly drew up a small plan that would remove Phoenix from the picture, allowing her to deal with the younger cleric herself.

Smiling at her inner genius, Nevan waited for Zeraion to attack her once more. The duo had become shamelessly predictable in their attack pattern – the older hunter would attack first, attempting to stun Nevan, and then the young cleric would then attempt to capitalize on her weakness by attacking when she was dazed. That pattern had come perilously close to working just now, and Nevan did not intend to take any further risk.

As predicted, the hunter lunged straight at her, swinging his Thunder Spear in a wide arc that Nevan could have easily predicted and dodged. However she did not do this – instead, focusing magical energy into her right arm to enhance her strength, she stopped the Thunder Spear in mid-swing, easily tolerating the severe shocks that the contact with the spear was giving her.

The look of shock and surprise on the hunter's face however, was priceless, and Nevan savored the image of it momentarily before she twisted around and flung Zeraion away from the battle, straight into the dueling armies.

"Zeraion!" Ascion shouted as he watched his brother soar through the air before plowing into the crowd and disappearing from sight. Cursing, he turned back to Nevan, who was now looking at him with a predatory look in her eyes. Perhaps that was what she thought of him – a cornered mouse, waiting to be devoured by the cat.

Steeling himself, he raised the Divine Fist in both hands and prepared for battle.

If Nevan was going to take him, it wasn't going to be without a fight.

* * *

Zeraion swore as he soared through the air, and didn't stop swearing even as he plowed through the packed masses of fighting soldiers before coming to a stop. 

_Damn, damn, damn, damn!_ The hunter thought to himself as he quickly picked himself up and cleared the immediate area around him with a _Tierra Choque _attack, sending Necropolis soldiers around him flying in all directions.

Glancing around, his swearing intensified as he realized that he could not see the fight between Nevan and Ascion. There was no sign of them in the vicinity; Nevan had tossed him so far that there was no way he could make it back in time to the fight, even if he could find them.

"Damnit!" Zeraion cursed one last time before he took off through the crowds of battling soldiers. If he didn't find his way back into the fight, Ascion was a dead man. One foolhardy Necropolis Death Knight made the mistake of blocking Zeraion's path by standing in his way and challenging him by slashing at the hunter with his runeblade.

Phoenix rewarded the Death Knight's efforts with a boot to the face; the hunter didn't even bother summoning his Thunder Spear as he kicked off the Death Knight, but just for good measure, he materialized a soul arrow in his hand and threw it at the Death Knight like a mini-spear.

The spectral arrow embedded itself in back the Death Knight's neck, toppling him, and Zeraion continued on his way. Pushing through the horde, past dueling pairs of soldiers, he frantically searched for any trace of his younger brother.

As he searched, he surveyed the battle, and did not like what he saw. The rout had been reversed – GDI troops were being slaughtered once more, and the dead bodies of his men littered the ground with Necropolis warriors standing triumphant over them.

Zeraion thought briefly back to the briefing where it had been mentioned that the 412th would be held back in reserve should the 501st encounter trouble. Right now, the 501st were in a shitload of trouble, and there was no sign on the 412th.

Just where the hell was their backup!?

His question was answered a moment later as a familiar voice sounded in his head.

_Phoenix, switch to COM frequency 77.6. We're here._

Her voice had never sounded more beautiful, but Zeraion still allowed himself some measure of resentment against the ice mage. _About damn time they arrived! So many of my men have died already!_

Pulling out his comm. headset, Zeraion tuned his boom mike's frequency to the one Grace had stated earlier, and let it all out when the ice mage responded.

"Damn it Grace, it's about time you arrived! Most of the 501st has already been wiped out!"

"_Sorry, we got here as fast as we could." _Raizen replied over the comm., her voice slightly distorted by static. "_We should be arriving from the left flank right about… now!"_

As if on cue, a huge explosion occurred right behind Zeraion, sending Necropolis troopers flying everywhere while leaving any GDI soldiers within the blast unharmed.

To fill in the gap, more GDI soldiers poured in, a certain blonde-haired mage at their lead. The Neropolis soldiers that had been near the blast had been stunned and dazed by its impact, and they made easy targets for the GDI reinforcements. Zeraion quickly sprinted over, summoning his Thunder Spear and bowling aside any Necropolis soldier unfortunate enough to get in his way.

Reaching Grace quickly, Zeraion stopped in front of her and dismissed his spear, the shaft of lightning fizzling out in his hands. "Grace, Ascion's dueling with the commander of the Necropolis battalion. I have to find him and help him!"

At the mention of Ascion being in danger, Grace visibly paled. She had taken care of Zeraion's younger brother when the cleric was still a young boy, a wet-behind-the-ears magician who had just made the 1st job advancement, and Ascion was like a beloved nephew to her.

"I should be able to sense his aura from here. Given his power and the power of the Divine Fist, I should be able to locate him easily." Grace told Zeraion quickly before closing her eyes and stretching out with her mind. What she was doing was a highly advanced version of the sensing technique that Ryden had taught Zeraion – this version of the technique allowed her to cover a much greater range, letting her survey the entire battle at once, and it also processed information much more efficiently, allowing her to zoom in on points of interest and letting her know what she needed to.

It was only a few seconds later before her eyes flew open, and she fixed her gaze on a certain section of the battle.

"There!" She shouted, pointing. "Come on, Zeraion. We've got to help him!"

Zeraion could not even see any hint of his brother in the direction that Grace had pointed out, but Grace could sense things that he couldn't, so he decided to place his faith in her capabilities for now. As Grace took off, Zeraion followed, summoning his Thunder Spear and grasping the Abyssal Arund in his left hand.

It was time to finish this battle.

* * *

On a lofty bluff overlooking the entire battle stood the Earth Aflame. Longinus predicted that something like this would happen; the heretics would create their own champions, and the Wise Men would have no choice but to counter. He could sense six larger-than-average energy pools, but even they paled in comparison to his. There were just some limits that only geniuses and madmen overstepped, and oft the two were only separated by a fine, blurred line. 

Like ants and termites they did battle, bringing some imaginary meaning to their meaningless existences. Men cried, charged, fought, and were cut down like wheat in the field, feeding off grim determination and fear. Smith was at awe with such passionate emotion, as well as in total disgust. Normally, the best policy was to let insects fight and kill each other, but there was a new development on the battlefield. A division of Necropolis soldiers; not good. Smith naturally didn't care about the GDI and whether they won or lost this decisive battle, but this particular server partition was at stake. Introduce about a hundred more men unleashing flashy spells and there'd be another partition fit for the recycling bin.

Running through several mental courses of action, Smith hit onto a last resort. Running a check, he verified that there'd be just enough RAM for him to mobilize something he'd never used for an age. Normally, such whelps would never smell the likes of his second release, but this time he needed them dead, and fast.

**I am the bone of my sword...**

* * *

Grimacing, an exhausted Ascion once more drew upon his mana reserves and summoned his Divine Shield, blocking Nevan's latest attack, which sent a series of electrical bats flying straight at him. The bats, not discriminating between barrier and target, slammed right into the shield, dissipating harmlessly against it in small bursts of lightning. 

Nevan herself wasn't in too good shape. The young cleric had proven to be much tougher than she had expected, and she had sustained several wounds. Without his older brother to look to for guidance, Ascion had been forced to rely on his own skills and knowledge, and had proven to be surprisingly resourceful and resilient.

Panting, Ascion began to gather power for another attack, Nevan doing likewise. Raising his staff and channeling mana into it, he swung it in Nevan's direction and yelled, "Ray of Light!"

Simultaneously, Nevan unleashed her own attack, shouting, "Dark Frenzy!"

A series of black claws emerged from the ground in a wave, traveling forward at great speed while slashing and tearing at anything within reach. Ascion's attack, meanwhile, sent forth a great beam of holy energy that was almost too bright to look at directly, directed straight at the chaos sorceress.

As the beam passed over the wave of claws, the latter attempted to grasp onto the former, eating away at its strength. The former, in the meantime, dissolved away the latter with the sheer strength of its brightness. However, the power of the divine beam saw it through, and it passed through Nevan's attack with relatively much strength left.

Nevan had been so confident in her own abilities, so sure of her victory, that the shock barely registered when Ascion's attack burned through her own, and what was left of its awesome might, which was still relatively considerable, slammed head-on into her, right in her sternum. She barely withstood the impact and managed to keep her ground, but it took all her strength just to remain standing. Severely weakened by the blast, she was on the verge of collapsing when she saw Ascion gathering power for one final assault.

But she could see the telltale signs of over-strain on the young cleric's face. Sweat ran down his face and neck in rivulets, and his brows were knitted together in concentration and exhaustion. Nevan chuckled to herself. The boy was so determined to defeat her that he would expend his one last, dying breath to kill her. If he cast that one last spell, the strain of magical force would take its toll on his body, and it would kill him as well.

Just as Ascion looked ready to unleash the final spell, Nevan spoke.

"You want to kill me that badly, boy?" She whispered, but Ascion could hear her as clearly as though she was standing right next to him. "You cast that spell, and the strain on your body will kill you too."

Hesitating, Ascion lowered his staff, but kept the power charged within his weapon. "A small price to pay to rid the world of vermin like you. You've killed so many innocent people – death is too good for you!"

Her strength was beginning to leave her; Nevan could barely stand. Laughing quietly to herself, she replied, "Indeed it may be. But I see talent in you. Talent too good to be put to waste by killing yourself over 'vermin' like me."

Unable to stand any longer, her legs gave out from beneath her. His inner chivalry winning over reason, Ascion dropped his staff and rushed forward, barely catching Nevan before she fell to the ground.

Looking up into the young cleric's face, the sorceress saw not Ascion, but a very young Rafael Wolfen. Smiling at old memories that she had nearly forgotten, Nevan raised a hand and gently laid it on the young cleric's face. "I was a… good friend of your father once… it was so long ago…" She laughed quietly, and a thin rivulet of blood flowed down from the corner of her mouth. "You're just like him. Your father was a handsome, brilliant priest…"

Ascion couldn't help it, but he recoiled slightly at her touch. He tried to turn away, but the sorceress firmly turned his face back to hers and uttered her last words.

"But you're no slouch yourself."

Her eyes closed, her head rolled back, and Nevan died in Ascion's arms.

* * *

At the news of the death of their commander, the Necropolis NCOs had ordered a massed retreat. The entire battalion had just hightailed it out of there, not even bothering to fight the GDI soldiers who briefly pursued them. Not that it would have made much difference – Necropolis' retreat was so rapid that the GDI soldiers barely had time to mount a chase. 

Fortunate it was for Necropolis, for the casualties sustained by the 501st and the 412th in the conflict were immense. All of their efforts were now focused on tending to the wounded and the dying while assigning burial details to the dead. They wouldn't have had time to mount a chase even if they wanted to.

Zeraion looked over the remainder of his army with sadness. So many of the men under his command had died here today. The air was thick with the stench of blood, death and decay. The cries of the wounded filled the air, coupled with the agonized moans of the dying. Ascion was amongst the clerics tending to the wounded, while Ark was helping to lug around medical supplies with Tora. Roxi had taken on the most morbid task of all, using her powers over fire to create a blaze that cremated the bodies of the dead - a massive funeral pyre. A few of the wounded and dying soldiers were crying out for their mothers, and at that sight, Zeraion swore to the gods that Necropolis would pay for its crimes.

Sighing, the hunter turned away and returned inside his command tent. Lying down on his cot, he turned on his side and stayed that way for several minutes, reflecting over the events of the battle, not moving even when Grace entered the tent.

The mage sat down on the cot next to the young hunter, and Zeraion finally sat up. The duo sat in companionable silence for a few minutes as Grace slid her hand underneath his and grasped it gently. Finally, Zeraion opened his mouth to speak.

"It was worse than I thought."

Grace turned to face him. "The casualties?"

The hunter shook his head. "Not just that… it's this war as a whole. It's only just begun, and I'm already sick of it. All this death, all this killing…" Zeraion sighed and buried his face in his right hand. "It's just too much. I can't deal with this for very long."

"Yes you can." Grace protested quietly. "You must. You're a commander in this army, Zeraion, and you have to do your duty. I'm disgusted by this war as well, but that won't make dealing with it any easier."

"You're right." Zeraion finally admitted. "Guess I'll just have to get used to this."

"It doesn't get any easier, you know." Grace murmured after a few seconds, folding her arms around him in a comforting embrace. Zeraion gladly returned it, and they remained so until Ascion stepped into the tent.

"Zer?" The cleric called out. Zeraion quickly released Grace and stepped off the cot. He was about to ask what Ascion wanted when he saw that his brother's face had paled, and he looked as though the end of the world was imminent. Zeraion opted to keep his mouth shut and listen to what his brother had to say.

The words that came out of Ascion's mouth did not comfort the young commander in any way.

"There's something outside, up in the sky. You'll… want to see this for yourself."

* * *

**Five minutes ago…**

Gault Isentryx strode furiously through the corridors of Necropolis' citadel. Damn that Raizen, and damn her intervention! If not for her, Phoenix could be in their clutches by now, and they would have another tool to vanquish the son of Dracon!

He stopped briefly in the middle of the corridor before letting out a short scream and punching the wall next to him with all his strength. A visible imprint of his knuckles was left there, and cracks spider-webbed out from the point of impact. The force of the blow had split open the skin on his knuckles, and blood had begun to flow.

Not even registering the pain in his knuckles, Gault cast a minor healing spell that stopped the bleeding. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down, letting the rage pass. His anger at Raizen had not dissipated, but he was significantly calmer now, and he had to be – he was on his way to meet with the guildmaster, to report of his failure to capture Phoenix.

He arrived at the doors leading to the master's conference chamber, and the guildmaster's voice uttered a concise "Enter."

The doors slid apart, and Gault stepped through. Kneeling on the pedestal, he bowed to the darkness ahead where the guildmaster resided, and reported, "My apologies, lord. I failed to capture the hunter Phoenix. One of my old… acquaintances intervened and prevented me from subduing him."

"Old acquaintance?" The guildmaster murmured. "How unexpected. Nevertheless, I see that since Phoenix had outside help, it was most probably outside of your power to capture him then. The fault is not yours."

Clenching a fist, Gault responded, "If only I were stronger, then I could have dealt with that troublesome harlot. She is evenly matched with me now – she's grown more powerful than I had expected."

"You may have that chance to grow stronger, Isentryx." The guildmaster replied. Fingers snapped, and suddenly the light brightened. Gault gasped as the room brightened, allowing him to see that he knelt in a large antechamber, with a large desk of sorts in the middle.

At the desk sat the guildmaster, and he was surrounded by all manner of equipment and books. Gault was astonished to discover how… _human_ the guildmaster looked. The dark ranger had expected to find someone with the appearance of a demigod, at least, but the guildmaster's appearance was merely that of an ordinary man of ordinary build. His head was completely bald, and he sported a beard and a moustache that was neatly trimmed and kept in order. The only unordinary thing that Gault could sense about the guildmaster was the sheer amount of power that radiated off of him. It was almost tangible.

"Rise, son of Necropolis… son of mine. I am about to offer you something, and should you accept, you shall be bestowed upon power few in this world have ever tasted. I am about to offer you the chance to be a Necropolis council member."

Gault shot up to his feet, too astounded for words. "A council member? Me!? But I thought all the places in the council were full!"

The guildmaster grinned, and said, "One of our newer members has just perished in a conflict, due to her overconfidence. I never saw much potential in her either way. But I have been watching you for some time now, Isentryx, and I have seen the potential for greatness in you. All it takes is the right teachings, the right knowledge, and you will soon become one of the most powerful beings in this world."

The guildmaster extended a hand, and in it was a detonation device. "My name is Kain. Only council members ever have the privilege of knowing my name, so consider yourself fortunate that I have granted you that privilege early."

Gault took the proffered device in his hand, and turned it over. There was a blinking green light at the top of the device, next to a red button. "What is this for?"

"That, my son, is the doom of GDI. With the new weapon developed by our scientists, I have loaded several missiles with that weapon and aimed them at several different areas of Bera. GDI will be devastated when the missiles strike, and this world will be transformed into a better place for us, one beyond their ability to change. This is my offer: Push that button, transform the world, and join our ranks as a council member. Or refuse, and you shall never enter this chamber again."

Gault stared at the detonator. The guildmaster gave him an encouraging smile.

"Go ahead, my son. Push the button. Inscribe your place in history with the blood of GDI."

Without hesitation, without regret, without remorse, Gault pushed down the button. The blinking green light turned into a solid red, and hell was unleashed upon all of Bera.

* * *

"By the gods… what are those things?" Zeraion gaped as he stared up into the sky. 

"It looks like a missile of some kind, and… Oh my god." Ascion stopped in mid-sentence as he realized where the missiles were going to land.

"Henesys." Was all Grace could say before the missile landed on the aforementioned town. A second sun appeared on the horizon momentarily, blinding everybody, followed by an unholy green flash.

As the light faded, Zeraion lowered his arms from in front of his face, and stared in the direction of his ruined hometown. A single tear flowed down his cheek as flames began to rise in the distance, and Grace quickly took hold of his hand to let him know she was there for him. Ark placed a comforting hand on Zeraion's shoulder as well, and all around them, the bowmen of the 501st and the 412th wept openly at the destruction of their home.

* * *

Ryden emerged from the underground tunnels, dusting himself off and dismissing Ifrit and Shiva. Damn, that fight had been harrowing. He had been certain he was going to die there, but apparently he had managed to cheat death once more. 

As he stepped out of the darkness and back into the sunlight, he took a moment to stretch himself, stretching sore muscles and making him discover injuries he didn't even know he had. His regenerative capabilities were working overtime to heal the wounds he had sustained in the fight, and he was still sporting several bruises.

A strange, low-pitched whistling filled the air around him, and he glanced around, searching for its source. His draconic senses did not reveal any threat nearby, so he decided to look in the only direction that his sense could not completely cover.

Straight up into the sky.

Looking up, he did a double take at the long cylindrical shape that was spewing fire out of one end and streaking across the sky. It looked like some kind of missile, but Ryden was not too familiar with all of Omega Sector's technology. He only had a moment to wonder why the hell was a missile from Omega Sector flying all the way to Victoria Island before it impacted against the ground a few kilometers from his position.

The explosion and the following shockwave nearly blew Ryden off his feet, and he barely managed to stand his ground by crouching and raising his hands in front of him. A second flash quickly followed the first blinding flash of light from the initial explosion, this time a flash of sickening green.

Blinking the stars out of his eyes, Ryden looked around and realized that the surrounding landscape around him had been totally transformed. The trees and grass around him were dying, the healthy green of their leaves fading away to a dead, necrotic brown, the leaves withering and dropping to the ground. Some of the trees were even beginning to sprout tumors and other cancerous growths.

On the ground in front of him, green crystals were beginning to sprout from the earth, while the soil around them began to turn gray, pitted and barren. Green vapor emerged from the crystals as they pulsed emerald light from within, giving off an eerie glow.

The fighter didn't need to be a rocket scientist to deduce that whatever those green crystals were, they were extremely dangerous and had to be avoided. Ryden barely had time to wonder what the hell was going on before he spun around and took off through the parts of the forest that weren't devastated yet.

If anybody could have predicted the events in the years to come, they would have told him that hell had come to Bera, and was staying here for good.

* * *

A/N: Good god, I'm finally finished. Sorry guys, this one took me a really long time due to a lack of inspiration and too much time spent on the Xbox 360. I mean, I've already finished Halo 3, Gears of War, BioShock, Dead Rising, Spider-man 3, Ninety-Nine Nights… 'gets knocked out by Master' 

Master: Sorry. He goes crazy about games like that sometimes. Anyway, you know the drill. Review. The Chief worked his ass off for this one.

Master and Chief out.


	18. Bloodlines: Part I

Disclaimer: We don't own nothing, so there.

* * *

A/N: Master and Chief and Arbiter Inc., now consisting solely of the Chief since the Master has tendered his resignation due to academic pursuits, sincerely apologizes for the extremely long delay. Because the burden of writing this chapter was perched squarely on the Chief's back, production has been very slow, especially so due to several other reasons.

Reason 1: Lack of decent inspiration. Really slow days in the brainstorming department.

Reason 2: The release of Devil May Cry 4. The Chief took a whole week off to play this game and try to get more inspiration for LC from it.

Reason 3: Arrival of the Chief's new top-of-the-line computer, which allows him to play Crysis at max xD. He (I) has been spending the last few days pwning the KPA with the kick-ass nanosuit, and has finally decided to get off his lazy ass to post the next chapter of this fanfic.

Either way, here it is, hope you guys enjoy it, and PLEASE don't hold it against me for the delay. I've been trying my best here!

* * *

Chapter 18: Bloodlines – Part I

**It has been three years since the battle that sparked the beginning of the Guild War – the conflict that has come to be known as 'The Battle of Henesys'. The missiles launched by Kain have devastated Victoria Island, transforming parts of it into barren, blasted wastelands polluted with the green crystal that they call Tiberium, and at the beginning of the war, a majority of the island was under Necropolis control. It was only due to the brilliant leadership of GDI's four generals and the astounding skill of the Dead Six – now advanced into the Third Job – and GDI's commando corp. – most prominent amongst them a certain 'Devil Children' squad, that much of Victoria Island was retaken in the years that followed. **

**Three years after the Battle of Henesys, GDI controls all of Victoria Island, with the exception of parts of its eastern seaboard and Ellinia itself. Ossyria is almost completely under Necropolis occupation, using Omega Sector as a base from which to launch attacks. GDI is currently attempting to occupy the rest of Victoria Island using the Dead Six's capabilities, but unfortunately the leader of GDI's champions has gone a bit 'renegade' lately, making things difficult for their generals. **

**The war has caused the son of Dracon to show signs of rampancy, and he now tends to take on missions alone instead of with his squadmates, making Zeraion the_ de facto_ leader of the Dead Six instead. Embittered and emotionally scarred by the events of the conflict, Ryden is no longer the compassionate, just, heroic warrior that he used to be. With the war bringing out the darker, more vengeful side within him – the side that was once characterized by his father – he has become a cynical, sardonic, cocky individual with a morbid sense of humor and a fondness for pizza, tequila and strawberry sundae. His no-nonsense approach to accomplishing missions has earned him both fame and notoriety within the Global Defense Initiative and the Brotherhood of Necropolis. Ryden's rogue tactics have become the stuff of legend in the Guild War, but always result in the same thing: the job gets done. Of course his new, improvisational, instinct-based approach to fighting Necropolis has made him some enemies along the way. As the son of Dracon sees it, the enemies he has made both on and off Necropolis are merely casualties of effective work. He behaves arrogantly to almost all he meets, even his superiors. The only people who can actually maintain friendly ties with him are his squadmates, Zeraion Phoenix in particular. **

**The changes in his attitude have also caused a strain in his relationship with his girlfriend, Astella. Furthermore, the former cleric, now a priestess, has begun to grow more distant as well as she searches obsessively for more details on how to unlock the Force Edge's power while simultaneously trying to figure out how to take it from Ryden without having to kill him. This growing rift between the two places them on a course of inevitable confrontation, but neither are aware of it yet. **

**Zeraion Phoenix's personality has remained relatively unchanged during the course of the war, thanks to the steadfast support and love given by his brothers and his loyal partner Grace. However he has become increasingly concerned with the growing rampancy in his squad leader, and has made many attempts, all of which had failed, to try and turn Ryden back into the compassionate hero he once was. **

**The date is now June 6th, 1844. GDI is about to launch an assault on the Necropolis fortress in Ellinia that will occupy the forest-town, allowing them to travel all the way to Orbis and take the fight to the hackers. Soldiers are readied, commanders are briefed, and special ops teams are prepared. As GDI sets itself for the next turning point of the Guild War, the son of Dracon receives an unexpected visitor, followed by a mysterious invitation… **

* * *

_Establishing video uplink…_

_… _

**_User: GlobalDefenseInitiative; CDRZ.P. _**

**_Accessing: Login Authentication_**

**_Successful_**

_…_

Philadelphia_ uplink successful._

_Welcome back, commander Phoenix. _

_Today's threat level is 'Elevated'. The state of the planet is deteriorating. Tiberium infestation has reached critical levels. _

_Red Zones suffer the worst contamination by the crystal, and cannot support any form of organic life. The Red Zones located in Bera so far are Henesys, Omega Sector, Kerning's sewers, all the roads to the Ant Tunnels, as well as Sleepywood and the Ant Tunnels themselves. _

_Yellow Zones are dangerously contaminated, but contain most of Bera's population. Decades of war and civil unrest have left these regions in a state of social collapse. The Brotherhood of Necropolis operates virtually unchallenged in these zones. They take advantage of the chaos to recruit numbers and disguise their military infrastructure. Necropolis' leader is a charismatic figure we know only as 'Kain'. Kain is determined to accelerate the spread of Tiberium across the world, believing it to be the catalyst in the next stage of Bera's evolution. However in recent months the Brotherhood has been suspiciously quiet, with little aggressive activity. Yellow Zones in Bera include Perion, parts of Orbis, the outer reaches of El Nath, Eos Tower in Ludibrium, and parts of Ludibrium itself. _

_The remainder of Bera's surface is unscarred by Tiberium outbreak. These Blue Zones are considered the last refuge and hope of the civilized world, and most are now under the protection of the Global Defense Initiative. The few Blue Zones left in Bera are Lith Harbor, Kerning City, Ellinia, Maple Island, the inner parts of El Nath, Aqua Road, Ludibrium's villages, and the ports of Orbis. _

_You have been assigned command of the GDI forces stationed on the eastern seaboard of Victoria Island. _

_Good luck, commander Phoenix. _

* * *

Shadows were cast down upon the city as the sun set in Kerning. As the sun's rays began to fade away, darkness fell upon the town of thieves. Whatever little moonlight that was provided was soon taken away as storm cloud began to gather, lightning flashing across the sky.

From the shadows of an alleyway, a blonde young woman stepped into the moonlight. A black cat scurried out of her way, but the young woman took no notice of the sudden movement.

As she walked out to the middle of the street, a sudden gust of wind swept from the alley, rustling her magician robes and raising her muffler, briefly revealing the emblem of Necropolis that had been stitched onto her robe sleeve. As the wind died down and her muffler settled, once more concealing the emblem, she adjusted the black sunglasses she was wearing and turned to her right, striding towards her destination – a decrepit, nondescript building which sole outstanding feature was the large neon sign in front that read "Dragon's Redgrave".

From the outside, the structure looked like just any other building in Kerning City, the only difference being the neon signs, but even so, this type of building was still fairly common in Kerning – these served as the homes and offices of skilled individuals who were hiring out their talents for difficult jobs; mercenaries, freelancers and bounty hunters.

This building, however, was different from all the others. As the young woman walked to its front door, she briefly went through in her mind the intelligence file that her superior had briefed her with prior to her departure on this mission.

This building was reputedly the so-called 'office' of the son of Dracon; the place where he and his squadmates rested and relaxed when they were not on missions. And also reputedly the place where the son of Dracon also used to hire himself out to complete various dirty jobs and earn some extra change when not on a mission.

The young woman stopped a few meters from the building's doorstep and, spying a nearby motorcycle, decided that perhaps a dramatic entrance would be more appropriate.

* * *

Heavy metal music blasted out of the speakers in the office. Normally his other squadmates would have protested at the sheer volume at which the music was being projected, but tonight, Ryden could care less. All of his squadmates were on various small missions right now, babysitting the other, newer battalions and companies, and other such minor assignments, so he was alone in the office now.

Ryden snorted in disapproval at the Wise Men's use of his squadmates' capabilities. They were GDI's champions and all the four blokes had them doing were little jobs that they claimed were 'for the greater good', in 'preparation for the future'? Ryden snorted again and took a bite out of the slice of pizza that he had in his hand.

They should just strike at the Necropolis bastards while they still had the chance. An all-out assault on their citadel would be good, but the Wise Men wouldn't listen to him, stating that 'it's still too early', 'GDI isn't strong enough yet'.

The phone on the desk in front of him rang shrilly, and Ryden, with both his legs raised up on the desk, simply thumped one of his legs solidly on the top of the table. Given a solid jolt, the phone leapt off the receiver and sailed right into his waiting palm. Raising the phone to his ear and swallowing a mouthful of pizza, he mechanically said, "Dragon's Redgrave."

Dissatisfied with the lack of gratifying action against Necropolis, Ryden had taken to the mercenary business, hiring himself out on various jobs such as monster extermination, missing persons cases and criminal investigations during his spare time. It normally provided good money, but Ryden had proven so spectacular at his jobs that soon enough _everybody _started calling him for help, even for extremely minor cases like lost & found. Heck, he had even once received a call for help from a little girl when her cat got stuck up a tree.

Exasperated, Ryden had then set up a password system, making sure that his clients had gone through the right channels to get the password so that they would know exactly what kind of jobs he took.

And when he discovered that the caller did not have the password in question _and _was looking to hire an undertaker instead, Ryden 'politely' responded, "An undertaker? Sorry pal. I specialize in disposal of the living. I don't handle the dead. Call somebody else. Oh, and we closed at nine."

"Again, no password." He muttered to himself exasperatedly before he tossed the phone back onto the receiver with a sigh. Right now business was a bit slow, and the cash was flowing in much more sluggishly. Not that Ryden cared much about it – GDI provided him with what he needed to survive, this was just extra. "I can't seem to get any more business around he-"

Before he could get any further, there was an almighty roar from outside, and the large oak double-doors that led to the interior of the office burst open, shattered by a huge impact.

The object in question that had caused the impact made itself blatantly obvious later; a large, red motorcycle had deposited itself in the middle of the office, having smashed the doors open earlier. Astride the vehicle was a young, blonde woman, wearing magician robes, and Ryden decided that whoever had to crash through his doors on a motorbike must have some serious control issues.

Dismissing the finer details from his mind, he coolly uttered a smooth, "Whoa, slow down, babe!"

As the girl stepped off the bike, Ryden noted with a low, quiet whistle that she was quite the looker. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of black sunglasses, but he could see that she had a cute nose, full red lips, and though she was wearing robes, he could also see a figure that would make an hourglass grimace, shrivel up and turn green with envy – basically making it look like a 7-Up bottle.

His conscience briefly muttered in his head _What about Astella?_

**To hell with Astella.** His darker side shot back. **She's a gone case anyway. So distant now. **

Ignoring the internal dialogue in his brain, he leaned forward and took his feet off the desk, craning his neck for a better look.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Ryden gave the girl a cool smile, and jammed his thumb over his shoulder. "Nature calls? It's in the back."

The young woman didn't seem to hear him – she just walked around the office, taking a good, long look at the décor before finally settling her gaze on the crusader himself.

The walls of the office were decorated with trophies that he had gathered over the course of the many missions and jobs that he took on. Heads of monsters impaled onto the walls, weapons taken from the bodies of enemies he had defeated – these items and various others covered the walls, hanging from some form of support or another. At the back of the room was Ryden's desk, and an old photo of his mother and father – the one he had found at the shrine – rested on the side of it, along with an opened box of pizza, the telephone, and several papers and documents.

"So," the girl began, "You must be the handyman who'll take any dirty job." She took a step closer to the desk. "Am I correct?"

"Almost." Ryden replied, stepping off his chair and walking to the wall next to his desk, where the Force Edge rested on a small pedestal. Walking to his father's sword and picking it off its rest, he turned to the girl and stepped closer to her, giving the claymore a few experimental twirls. "I only take… 'special' jobs. _If _you know what I mean." A flirtatious wink.

The young woman ignored it. "You're the man who lost a mother to Necropolis three years ago." She pressed on. "The son of the legendary crusader Dracon… Mr. Ryden."

_Ah… so that's what this is about._ If the girl was an assassin sent by Necropolis, they were sorely underestimating his skills. From what he could sense, the girl was only a second jobber, an ice and lightning wizard. Barely even close to becoming a mage, and barely even sixteen – only a couple of years younger than him, three years at the most. Mentally flipping off the Necropolis council for this indirect insult at his skill, he treaded closer to the girl slowly, stylishly twirling the Force Edge one-handed while casually facing the young woman.

"Well, the way I figure it," The crusader started, "In this war, a lot of your kind comes around. And if I kill each one that comes, eventually I should hit the jackpot sooner or later." In a flash, he had the edge of his sword leveled at the young woman's neck, inches from her throat.

Seemingly unfazed by this deadly fact, the girl smoothly replied as she raised a hand, "In that case, you should be used to this sort of thing."

Before Ryden could even begin to wonder what the girl was going on about, lightning speared outwards from her raised hand, and she grabbed onto the extended blade of his father's sword.

It dimly registered in Ryden's mind that it was rather ironic that this turn of events shocked him, when he was suffering severe electric shocks at the same time, as the wizard pumped immense amount of electricity into his body by conducting it through his sword. His brain registered the incredibly bad pun right before it went blank, totally fried by the currents that were currently coursing through it. Uncontrollably shaking and involuntarily screaming in pain, he was unable to resist as the young woman shoved aside the Force Edge with surprising strength before spinning around and smashing her heel into his face with a reverse-roundhouse kick.

The blow knocked him silly for a moment, but he managed to keep on his feet. That balance however, did not last as the girl pressed on with her attack, assaulting him with a scissor kick to the face, sending him flying backwards and straight into his desk, splitting it in two and sending papers flying everywhere.

Having lost grip of the Force Edge in the second blow, the claymore now spun harmlessly in the air – that is, until the wizard grabbed it and threw it straight at Ryden, impaling him to the shattered remains of his desk with his own sword. To add injury to injury, the girl continued to drive even more electricity through the sword even as it impaled him, worsening his muscle spasms and generally increasing the volume of his involuntary shouts of pain.

The girl laughed condescendingly. "Are you _really_ the son of the legendary crusader Dracon? Didn't your daddy teach you how to use a sword?

Halting the flow of electricity from her fingertips, she stepped towards the motorcycle she had ridden in on and, picking it up with a mighty heave, threw it at the prone crusader with a cry of effort.

The shaking had stopped then, and Ryden's mind cleared just long enough for him to see a red motorbike just a few seconds from smashing his face into the floor.

"A sword? Ha-ha! Time to go to work, guys!"

With a cocky smirk, he drew out his two trusty claws Ebony & Ivory – hidden in a back holster all this while – and stylishly spun them around his fingers before leveling them at the incoming motorcycle.

To say that he went totally trigger-happy on the vehicle would be a sore understatement. The speed at which he fired off his claws was beyond astounding, and the stars impacted against the motorcycle with such frequency that the vehicle was actually halted in mid-air for a split-second, and then it began to be _pushed back_.

The girl was more than astonished to see her makeshift projectile suddenly come flying back at her. Yelping out in surprise, she threw herself backwards onto the floor, narrowly avoiding the incoming missile. The motorbike slammed into the floor just at the doorway and, with its engine already considerably damaged and under serious stress, decided to explode in a fiery display of pyrotechnics, setting the doorway on fire and blocking off the only way out.

Spinning around onto her back, the girl watched slack-jawed as the son of Dracon rose from his prone position and strode towards her, seemingly unbothered by the fact that his own sword was still embedded in his chest.

"Even as a child, I had powers." The crusader said, stepping towards the wizard. "Thanks to my father's blood in me."

The girl continued to stare up at him in wonder, her mouth hanging open. "What… strength…" She murmured in disbelief, slowly backing away.

Finally noticing the claymore in his chest, Ryden grasped onto it and gave it a few firm pulls, extracting it from his body before thrusting it into the ground beside him. "You were the first to know about my avengeance." He said, stepping forward and aiming Ivory at the girl's head. "Looks like I'm getting closer."

There was a few seconds of silence before the girl slowly got to her feet. "It seems that way… but I'm not your enemy. My name is Denice. Denice Alenko. I came here to seek your help."

She turned away, her back facing him. "To put an end to Necropolis."

"_What?_" Ryden was so struck by disbelief that he actually lowered Ivory by a few centimeters.

The young woman turned around to face him again and removed her sunglasses. The disbelief intensified so much that Ryden actually gasped and took a step back, Ivory clattering to the floor, having fallen from slackened fingers.

The girl's eyes were a stunning shade of chocolate-brown, and in a broken picture lying next to the shattered remains of Ryden's desk, eyes of the very same shade of brown stood out from the face of the blonde woman who had been married to the legendary crusader Dracon, and had given birth to his son.

Thunder roared outside, echoing the sound that Ryden's blood made in his ears.

* * *

**Twenty minutes later...**

The son of Dracon stepped through the door of 'Dagon's Alley', a local bar that was only a couple of streets away from his office. As he walked inside and deposited himself on a chair at the bar, he recalled Denice's words from earlier.

* * *

_"I was sent here by my superior, who also happens to be my elder brother." The wizard began. "He's the leader of a small group of people who are unhappy with the way things are being run in the guild, and are thinking of splitting off."_

_Ryden's mind whirled at this information. Traitors in Necropolis? Who'd have thought of that?_

_"If that's the case," Ryden began suspiciously, "Why did you attack me just now?"_

_"It was just a test." The girl replied. "To see if your might was as vaunted as my brother claimed."_

_"Right…" The crusader remained skeptical at this, but decided to let it pass. "So why are you here? And what does your brother want from me?"_

_"Protection." Was the simple answer. "Necropolis does not forgive those who turn their backs on them, neither do they forget. So far, everybody who has tried to leave Necropolis on their own has been killed. Our group is still alive only because we have not openly showed any signs of wanting to split off."_

_"So what do you need my help for?" Ryden then asked. "You guys are hackers; surely you can protect yourself against your own kind."_

_"You don't seem to realize that the ones who execute traitors are not just any guild member. The ones that are sent to execute those accused of treason are those of Necropolis' elite forces – the Black Hand. Nobody in our group has the kind of might to match up to a Black Hand operative. My brother thought you might be willing to help us – we know that you're strong enough to take on even a council member, after hearing of Dreznor's defeat at your hands."_

_The crusader considered this. "What's in it for me? And why should I help you in the first place?"_

_"We have vital information that could prove extremely useful to GDI." Denice replied. "You will, of course, be well paid for your assistance. What really matters is that our group must be split off from Necropolis safely. None of us want to stick with that guild any more."_

I'll give it to this girl_. Ryden thought to himself with a wry smile._ She knows how to bargain. Still, it could be an infiltration attempt. But if it isn't, I could very well be dooming these people to their deaths, and we'll lose information that we could use as well.

_"Ok, we'll let fate decide." He pulled out of his pocket an old coin that he normally reserved for situations where he couldn't decide between two choices. "Heads, I'll bail your people out. Tails, you're on your own."_

_Before Denice could say otherwise, Ryden flipped the coin into the air, giving it a moment to spin before he snatched it back into his hand and opened his palm._

_The crusader grinned at the result of the toss. "Looks like it's your lucky day."_

_Relief was evident on the girl's face, but she tried not to make it apparent. "Very good. I'll meet you in your office again, next week. Same time, same day. My brother will be coming with me. Oh, and… sorry about the door."_

_"No problem. I can afford the repairs anyway."_

_

* * *

_

"Tequila?" The bartender's voice shook Ryden out of his reverie. Looking upon the old man's wizened face, the same face that had served him his drinks over the past two years, Ryden couldn't help but give a friendly grin.

"The way I like it," He replied.

"You're the only one who does." The bartender chuckled before reaching down under the bar and pulling out a clean glass. Pouring half a shot of tequila into it, he then stopped midway and filled the rest of the glass with a soda pop.

Ryden took the glass from the bartender and, placing his palm over the top, gave it a light thump against the bar top to mix the two beverages. The drink fizzled, and he raised the glass to his mouth, taking a long, nice sip of the drink and savoring the way it burned its way down his throat.

As he drank, he thought back to the conversation he had with Zeraion over his PDA before coming here.

_"Dracon? It's Phoenix."_

_"Hey Zer. What's up?"_

_"You remember those reports that we received of a group of troublemakers that hang around various bars in Kerning?"_

_"The ones that are suspected to be looking for someone and kill everybody who gets in the way of their search? The ones suspected to be Necropolis members? Why?"_

_"There's been another attack this afternoon. The bar that's only a street away from the one you frequent was hit. I think they're going to hit yours next. And I think they're looking for you."_

_"Then I'll be waiting for them. It's about time I took them down."_

_"Careful, Ryden. Those men are not to be trifled with. Command thinks that they're Black Hand members. I'm on my way with Roxi and Tora. _Don't_ go in alone."_

_"I won't. Dracon out."_

He had cut off the connection before Zeraion could get any further. Ebony & Ivory were safely hidden, tucked away in a back holster that was hidden beneath the black leather jacket he was wearing tonight. His mother's amulet, which he had taken along as a good luck charm, hung from a chain on his neck, resting against his chest with the chilled metal feeling cool against his skin. Ryden had every intention of going in alone – waiting for backup would take too long. Besides, he had come prepared, and those Black Hand operatives were going down.

As he continued to drink, the doors to the bar burst open, and a group of rowdy, burly men – about four or five men – stepped inside. Their clothing and armor was all black, and they all seemed to display their weapons rather openly. The largest of the group shouted for the bartender to bring several rounds of drinks, and the elderly man hurried to carry out their request.

Ryden's eyes narrowed as the men entered. He could smell the scent of blood on these men. This was most likely the aforementioned group of troublemakers all right, but there were so many of their kind here in Kerning. He could easily be targeting the wrong group for all he knew. Deciding that he would take action only if things got more hectic, he relaxed slightly and continued to drink his tequila.

A moment later, the doors to the bar opened once more, but this time a lot more quietly. A tall, thin man strode through the entrance. The man was wearing a long, beige leather trench coat and a pair of sunglasses, while a simple hat covered his hair and partially shielded his eyes from view. The stranger looked around the bar for a moment, and then sat himself down next to the crusader.

"Is your name Ryden?" The man asked quietly. "Son of Dracon?"

Inwardly surprised at this sudden approach, Ryden kept a stoic outward appearance and replied, "Who's asking? And where did you hear that?"

The man ignored his first question. "From a… very good friend of yours. I believe you know a certain Astella Iallis?"

The crusader was more than surprised to hear this man mentioning Astella, but he kept his expression neutral. If this man knew about her _and_ him, then he was most likely a Necropolis member. The stranger removed his sunglasses, raising his head enough for Ryden to get a good look at his eyes, and the crusader nearly stopped breathing, purely out of shock, when he saw the man's eyes were mismatched. The pupil of his left eye was colored a deep, demonic red, while his right eye was colored a dark, ocean blue.

Not replying, Ryden settled for sliding his left hand, which was out of the stranger's field of vision, into his jacket and resting it on Ebony's handgrip. He could see that the man's eyes were partially locked on his amulet. His dragon sense was screaming subliminal warnings at him, but he couldn't pinpoint its source. It could be radiating from the man sitting next to him… or it could be emanating from the rowdy group of men who were currently making a ruckus behind him at their table with a poker game.

"She sent this message for you." The man withdrew a small, brown envelope from within his coat, and slid it across the bar top to Ryden. "Please, _accept it._"

The man had made his statement a tad too forcefully. Ryden stared down at the brown envelope before picking it up and pocketing it. He turned back to the man to ask what this was all about, and blinked in surprise when he realized that the man had disappeared.

"Larry," He said to the bartender, shaking his head, "I think I'm gonna need another tequila. And a strawberry sundae before I leave."

"Right away, sir." Larry complied and whisked away to the back of the bar to whip up Ryden's request. Once the bartender had gone, a mocking, raucous laugh sounded from behind him, and Ryden noted that it had come from one of the men who belonged to the group of troublemakers.

"This is a bar, squirt. Not some place for a little kid to wander into." The man said scornfully.

"Oh?" Ryden didn't even bother turning around to face them. He simply turned his head enough for them to see his right eye, and he raised his right eyebrow. "The scent of blood is so much stronger than the scent of alcohol."

The man was confused enough by his statement that there was a long silence before a retort was finally made. "Whatever." The poker game was continued without much pause.

"That being said…" Ryden continued. "I've heard rumors of a group of troublemakers moving around Kerning. They say that this group terrorizes every bar they enter, and that they're looking for someone. Gods know who that someone is, but I've also heard that whenever they find anybody who resembles their target, they mercilessly execute him and anybody else who happens to be nearby. Pretty scary, if you ask me."

One of the men gave a dissatisfied grunt, and the man sitting next to him took the cigarette out of his mouth before smiling and uttering a jovial, "Sorry about that."

Ryden had a good view of the game from where he was sitting, and he could see that the man who had apologized was also the one with the winning hand for that round. "Royal Straight Flush, huh?" He commented nonchalantly. "Revealing something like that will definitely shorten your life."

The man stood up from his seat and placed his cards on the table…

"Everybody, I'll be _treating tonight-"_

… right before lunging straight at Ryden with inhuman speed, his hands spread out with his fingers hooked into claws.

Ebony's barrel greeted the man's charge. Ryden had the claw pointed right over his shoulder, not even turning around or looking to aim, and he pulled the trigger the moment the man was within a foot of him. The steely blasted out of the claw's barrel, drilling its way through the man's head and exiting through the back of his skull, blood spewing out of both sides of the hole.

The man's body slowly fell backwards, dropping in seemingly slow motion… that is, until the man's body was seemingly ripped open from the inside, like a cheap costume being torn apart, and a lycanthrope lunged forth from the remains of the body, largely undeterred.

Ryden immediately threw himself out of the way, smirking to himself. _Monsters utilizing human disguises with ooglith masquers. They're getting smarter. Guess they're not Black Hand members after all. _The wolverine crashed into the bar instead, sending wooden splinters flying everywhere. A sudden backhanded blow from the lycan smacked across Ryden's face and sent him flying backwards, crashing through the bar's back door and into the alleyway outside.

Splinters of oak followed his exit, but Ryden gracefully landed on his feet and skidded backwards for a short distance before coming to a halt. Two other werewolves in the group shed their human disguises as well, clothing and flesh peeling away like the rind of an orange. In response to this new threat, another claw came spinning up from Ryden's back holster.

The two wolves began to lunge forth, but were stopped in mid-leap by several flashes of steel, Ryden's aim with Ebony and Ivory as flawless as ever. The shurikens tore across the monsters' flesh, rending it in several places, stars embedding themselves right in their vital organs.

Blood exploded from the werewolves' wounds as their bodies fell to the floor, and Ryden coolly maintained his shooting posture, barrels of his twin claws smoking. The lycanthrope that had first assaulted him now sprang at him, and clamped its jaws down on his right hand while grappling aside his left, preventing him from getting a shot with either claw. Ebony clattered to the floor as the demon bent down Ryden's left arm with such strength that his bones were driven to the verge of breaking, causing him to involuntarily drop his weapon.

Ryden smirked, not even showing any sign of discomfort as the oversized wolf bit down even tighter, blood spewing out from the bite wounds in his arm. "Pretty good, Mr. Royal Straight Flush."

Snapping open his left hand, he sent out a mental call, a summon, and in response, a katana came crashing down from above them, sailing straight into Ryden's waiting palm. The blade morphed into its great sword counterpart the moment it came into contact with the crusader's hand, and Ryden sent Alastor straight into the skull of the lycan in front of him.

The fiend's dying roar of agony echoed throughout the streets of Kerning, sending alley cats and rats scurrying for cover and moths flitting about in agitation. Ryden dusted himself off as the lycanthrope's body slid off him, and he glanced back inside the bar, where through the shattered doorway, the last man of the group stood there, staring terrified and wide-eyed at the son of Dracon.

The moment the crusader stepped forward, the man bolted for the bar's exit, the doors swishing open before being slammed closed.

Grinning, Ryden stepped up to the door, but did not open it. Instead, he raised Alastor over his shoulder, and gave the door a solid stab that ran it through. Blood welled up from the hole that Alastor had rent in the door, and through the glass partition that covered the upper part of the door, the surprised visage of the man crashed through, along with the rest of his upper body.

Extracting Alastor from the door and opening it, he stepped through the doorway and over the man's corpse, remarking off-handedly over his shoulder, "Next time you visit a bar, make sure you consider ordering a strawberry sundae."

Behind him, the man's body lay still… for a few seconds, before it violently twitched. The werewolf inside ripped apart its outer disguise, the shoulder of the fake human body tearing open first before the rest of the monster emerged, lunging straight at Ryden with a feral snarl.

Ryden spun around, and aimed Ebony unerringly at the fiend's head. The wolverine continued forward, unintimidated by this fact. A foolish mistake, one that would doom the monster to its demise.

Grinning, the crusader coolly took aim.

"Bingo."

Tilting Ebony slightly, he pulled the trigger.

_

* * *

_

As he heard the sound of claw shots in the distance, followed by an inhuman roar of pain, Zeraion knew that Ryden had gone renegade again.

The ranger sighed to himself. He had tried his best to turn Ryden back into the paragon soldier that he once was, but so far all his efforts had been futile.

Beside him, Ryden's long-time friend Roxi let out a laugh. "Seems like he started without us."

"I told him not to go in alone." Zeraion muttered. To his left, his other squadmate Tora also laughed.

"The way I see it Zer, you can trust that crusader to follow orders as much as you can trust a Cargo to not try and snack on you. Guy's a freaking rebel."

As they approached, they could see that the fighting had done a number on the bar. The glass window on the door was broken, and dead werewolf bodies littered the floor, which was also practically coated with their blood. The bar top was totally wrecked, and so was the back door.

And in the middle of it all, stood Ryden. The son of Dracon was talking to the bartender, taking a strawberry sundae from the elderly man, saying, "Sorry about the mess, Larry. I'll pay for the damages if you want."

"Ah, no need, Ryden." The old man responded with a jolly laugh. "I haven't seen such an exciting fight since my adventuring days. What I wouldn't give to be young like you once more. Here, this sundae's on the house."

Ryden laughed as well. "Thanks, Larry." Walking out of the bar, he was about to start digging into his sundae when he saw his three squadmates waiting for him outside. The spoon, with a scoop of ice cream on it waiting to be consumed, paused mid-way to his mouth.

Zeraion was the first to speak. "I thought I told you _not_ go in alone?"

Ryden shrugged. "I didn't. I brought my two friends." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out Ebony and Ivory to show his point.

Zeraion groaned exasperatedly, slapping his forehead. "Right… whatever you say, Ryden. Listen, I'm here to bring you back to the _Philadelphia_. Command has a new mission for us, and we're gonna be late for the briefing if we don't hustle up."

"Gotcha." Before Zeraion could go any further, Ryden dunked the entire sundae into his mouth and swallowed it – all within the blink of an eye.

Zeraion blinked. Tora's mouth was hanging open, and Roxi was looking on with an expression of amusement.

"What just happened?" The chief bandit asked Roxi.

"Obviously you've never seen Ryden eat when I first got to know him." The fire mage laughed. "He's got a ferocious appetite. Once ate a 57-course meal at a restaurant without even breaking stride."

"That's gay."

"Well are we gonna get going or what?" Ryden asked as he wiped off whatever ice cream had managed to escape the confines of his mouth.

Zeraion blinked again before he started. "Oh, right. Yeah. Let's get going." As the four squadmates left, Zeraion glanced at Ryden briefly before shuddering. He hadn't seen anybody eat like that before… well, okay, maybe he and his other squadmates had similar habits when it came to food, particularly him and his brothers, but man… Ryden was going to get one hell of a brain-freeze later on.

_

* * *

_

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Grendel?" Athena asked. "This could end up backfiring on us…"

"The awakening of their latent powers is essential in this conflict, Athena." The elder magician replied before the bowmistress could get any further. "The latent power that lies untapped within them, given their bloodlines, will be indispensable. Especially so for the son of Dracon."

"If you say so." Athena said uncertainly.

The four wise men sat at their usual positions in the _Philadelphia's_ conference room, and were currently awaiting the arrival of the Dead Six. Zeraion was on his way from Kerning City with Ryden, Tora and Roxi, while Ark was on his way with Ascion from a border mission at Perion.

"But how do you think they will react?" The Dark Lord enquired. "The secret of their heritages has been kept hidden for centuries. Not even their ancestors knew of it."

"It was all for the best, Dark Lord." Dances with Balrog reminded his colleague. "How would you have dealt with it if we had another handful of super-powered beings running loose in the server during the war with the Underworld, i.e. the programs that escaped from the recycle bin? It'd be Koaxia-squared. The only reason we're doing this is because the loyalties of Ryden and Zeraion are already firmly entrenched in GDI – that will keep them from running amok."

"Even so…" Before the ninja lord could get any further, Grendel raised a hand, indicating silence.

"Quiet. They are about to arrive."

As predicted, the large oak doors that led into the conference room swung open, and the six champions of GDI stepped inside.

"You called for us, Athena? I hear you've got a new mission set up for us." Zeraion asked as he strode into the conference room with his squadmates.

"Yes, Zeraion. However there is more to this briefing than just for the mission." Athena replied, gesturing for them to sit down. As if on cue, six additional chairs materialized next to the table, and the commandoes took their seats. "But first, the mission."

"Now, as all of you are well aware, the only place left in Victoria Island that Necropolis has a firm footing on is Ellinia, the gate to Orbis." Dances with Balrog began. "Necropolis has the forest town heavily fortified, and its denizens are under martial law. We had planned a preemptive strike that would have you striking at several key points in their defenses to weaken them for further assault."

As the master warrior spoke, the holographic projector in the center of the table activated, displaying an overhead view of the entire Ellinian area of Victoria Island. Eight locations were highlighted within red circles on the image, followed by brief layouts of the objectives.

"There are more targets here than your squad's numbers can handle, and even though I am confident that you all could take them all out easily by yourselves, there is not enough time."

"Why? Is there a time window that's limiting us?" Ascion asked.

"Indeed there is." The Dark Lord confirmed. "Once your presence is detected inside their territory, which it most certainly will once you neutralize even one of the targets, Necropolis will begin to mobilize their entire force to bear down upon you. You have only fifteen minutes before their entire garrison will be after your blood. As vaunted as your powers are, you cannot take on an entire garrison with just the six of you."

"Get to the point, batman." Ryden interrupted. "If we're not able to handle this on our own, I suppose you've got some other squad of commandoes who'll be working with us."

Grendel sighed. Ryden had been showing more and more of his father's darker side lately. Even though Dracon had been revered and respected as a hero during the Underworld War, the legendary crusader was hardly a saint himself. Only fools saw the world in shades of black and white, and as far as Grendel's opinion was concerned, they were fortunate that a warrior as dark a shade of gray as Dracon had come to fight on the side of the light.

"Yes, you will be granted the assistance of one of our finest commando squads, aside from you that is." The elder mage began. "Delta Squad, also known as 'The Devil Children', will be working with you on this mission."

Zeraion barely kept himself from gasping out loud. He certainly hadn't expected this! The last time he had seen the Devil Children was at least five years ago, before this whole war had started.

"Whoa whoa, wait a sec there, old man. I ain't working with no devil spawn on this mission." Ryden protested. "I work _alone._" Zeraion briefly cast Ryden a heated glance at the 'devil spawn' remark, but did not say anything.

"If you're not happy with this," Dances with Balrog spoke up. "We could arrange it so that you will handle your assigned targets on your own while Delta Squad works with the rest of the Dead Six to neutralize the others."

Not finding any dispute with his old mentor's suggestion, Ryden merely grunted an affirmative and leaned back in his chair.

"Now that that's settled, we'll get down to business." Dances concluded. Grendel reached over and pushed a button on the control panel – the holographic display of the target area disappeared.

"The highlighted areas have been discovered to be areas of weakness in their line of defense." Grendel began. "These areas are thought to be inaccessible and highly dangerous due to the unfavorable terrain. The branch walkways of the trees in these sections of Ellinian territory are few and far between, and whatever little wooden bridges that were made to close the gaps are very flimsy. Necropolis has a minimum of guards posted to these areas, as they suspect few will be able to make it through such treacherous terrain, so infiltration into their fortress via these areas will be easier. Each of these locations lead to critical buildings within their fortress – taking these out will make the future assault much easier."

"Once you've successfully infiltrated the fortress, you will head towards the various critical buildings in their fortress. Ryden will go alone to hit their command center, which is situated at the very center of Ellinian territory, closest to the ports. It's going to be the most heavily guarded location, but undoubtedly also the one that Ryden is best suited for."

The Dead Six members took this with hardly any surprise – over the course of the war, Ryden had taken on so many suicide missions by himself and came out alive that they had long learnt to banish the likelihood that he could actually be killed on those missions.

"Zeraion will be hitting Necropolis' communications center. It's located relatively close to the barracks, which will be Tora's target, and the armory, which will be targeted by Ark. These three are located on the northern end of Ellinian territory, so you three will infiltrate from Perionian territory."

"Will any member from Delta Squad be assisting us on our missions, sir?" Zeraion asked the elder magician.

"Yes. Phoenix, you will be receiving the aid of Major Rysdale Tales, leader of Delta Squad, on your mission to neutralize the comm. center. Captain Wolfen and Lieutenant Drakeson will be hitting their targets alone, but if either of them encounter any trouble, you and Major Tales are free to aid them at your own discretion, so long as you do not compromise your primary objectives."

"Yes sir!" Zeraion, Tora and Ark chorused as one.

"Now," Athena continued for Grendel, gesturing towards the southern regions of Ellinian territory. "The field hospital, training grounds and admin buildings are located here, towards the south. The power plants are isolated from the other locations, situated at the southeastern side of their fortress. Lieutenant Roxi Leinharte will attack the power plants with Lieutenant Delinia Arklanser. Major Blade will strike at the training grounds with Lieutenant Natalia Arundale. The last target, the field hospital, will be taken care of by Delta Squad's last member and second-in-command, Captain Traphes Igzarion. Are there any questions?"

"No ma'am!"

"Good. Now, on to the next part of the briefing. Dark Lord…"

"Yes, Athena." The ninja lord stood up from his chair and cleared his throat before addressing the commandoes. "This operation will be carried out in several stages. Stage 0 will have all of you infiltrating the fortress simultaneously using the highlighted routes. Once you are inside, hold position at any location where you will remain undetected. Stage 1 involves Lieutenants Leinharte and Arklanser moving first to neutralize the power plants and cause a base-wide blackout. Once that is achieved, Stage 2 will commence."

"Stage 2 will have a time limit of five minutes. Once the blackout has been achieved, Commander Phoenix and Major Tales will have to quickly take out the communications array to prevent Necropolis from sending out any messages for reinforcements before the backup generators kick in. Simultaneously, Major Blade and Lieutenant Arundale will strike at the training grounds while Lieutenant Drakeson, Captain Wolfen and Captain Igzarion hit their own respective targets. Once all this is accomplished, Stage 3 will begin, where Colonel Dracon will be authorized to move against the enemy command center and take out their leadership. The rest of the mission personnel have the option to either regroup at the rendezvous point, which will trigger the follow-up full-scale attack that we have prepared, or to assist Colonel Dracon in taking down the enemy leadership before retreating."

As the Dark Lord finished, Zeraion opened his mouth to state that the rest of the Dead Six wouldn't be reporting back to the rendezvous point, that they would instead be going to help Ryden, but the crusader beat him to the punch with a very different statement in mind.

"Don't bother with that. I can take on the commander of this garrison myself. The rest of you guys can go meet up with the assault force." Ryden declared confidently.

"Perhaps you ought to know, Ryden," Dances with Balrog began warningly, "The commander of this garrison is a Necropolis council member. One that I don't think you've encountered before. His name is Melchiah, the only Voidwalker left on this world. He is the one responsible for recruiting replacement council members should the ones currently serving on the council perish, and if we take him down, it'll deal Necropolis a crippling blow."

"All the better that I take him down myself." The crusader replied cockily.

"Don't be stupid, Ryden. Council members are not to be trifled with, and last time you barely held your own against Dreznor, a junior council member. This is a senior council member you're dealing with here – he's exponentially more powerful than Dreznor. No matter how much more powerful you've become over the last three years, you will still be needing your squadmates' help on this one." Athena reprimanded him.

The son of Dracon merely shrugged. "Whatever you say, Athena."

"Delta Squad is already en route to the target area." Dark Lord announced once it was settled. "Ryden and Zeraion will stay here for further briefing; in the meantime, the rest of you have one hour to suit up and rendezvous with Delta Squad at the target area."

The commandoes snapped off sharp salutes as they acknowledged their leader's orders, and Ark, Ascion, Tora and Roxi filed off to the armory to prepare for the mission, leaving Ryden and Zeraion with the wise men.

"Now," Dances with Balrog began as the last of the departing four disappeared through the conference room's doors. "Colonel Ryden Dracon, Commander Zeraion Phoenix, what we are about to reveal to you is top-secret, totally classified information. I'd go in on all the useless details on how it's eyes-only and all that shit, but we don't have the time. Putting it shortly, we are about to reveal to you a closely guarded secret that has been kept hidden for at least a dozen generations."

"Sir, with all due respect, can you just get to the point?" Ryden asked with a bored expression on his face. Zeraion was listening intently and, admittedly, curiously as well, and he ignored his squadmate's comment.

Dances sighed at Ryden's remark and muttered. "Why is it that every time somebody says 'With all due respect', they really mean 'kiss my ass'?"

Grendel cleared his throat to signal for attention, and he pressed another button on the conference table's control panel when both commandoes had their attention on him.

"Very much is not known about Bera's full history, as no records exist from the time period before we came into power. Only through extensive study have we unlocked some of the secrets of this world's mysterious past, and the greatest secret of it all… was this."

An image flared to life above the holographic projector, and Zeraion gasped in shock while Ryden merely raised an eyebrow.

It was in Perionian territory, no doubt about that. But ruins of such a large scale could not have possibly gone unnoticed for such a long time! Zeraion hadn't even heard of such a discovery. The ruins of a civilization that dates back to even before the wise men came to power – the implications of such a discovery were staggering.

"These ruins were discovered roughly twenty-five years ago, before our war with the Underworld. They dated back to even before the time when we rose to power, and numerous theories have been hypothesized to speculate as to what happened to the civilization that built these ruins." Grendel explained.

"The most prominent theory," Athena continued for the old mage, "One that was derived from overwhelming evidence discovered within the ruins, is that a great race of warrior-beings walked Bera in the time during its birth. Though they had initially developed just like any of the other animal races that populated Bera in that ancient time, they soon evolved to become one of the greatest civilizations since ours. Numerous texts, scriptures and writings discovered in these ruins referred to the identity of this race as the _Saiyajin_, or as we have begun to call them, the Saiyans."

"Impossible!" Zeraion blurted out. "The Saiyans were only a legend; I always thought they were merely a child's fairy tale!"

"The Saiyans were real enough, Zeraion." Athena answered. "They didn't leave much in the way of a legacy behind, so what we do know about them is actually very little."

"Uh, guys? Don't mean to burst your bubble here but what the hell do the Saiyans have to do with us?" Ryden interrupted impatiently.

"Patience, my boy. We're getting there." Dances with Balrog replied.

"As I was saying," Athena continued. "We know very little about the Saiyans, but what we do know for sure about them is that they dominated Bera as a civilization for quite some time before an unknown worldwide cataclysm wiped them out. Or at least, we thought it was all of them."

"It was discovered some years later that there were actually a handful of survivors who lived through the cataclysm. Generations later, even now, their legacy still lives on in the form of Saiyan-human hybrids, with the power of the Saiyans passed on to their descendants." Grendel finished for her.

Ryden pondered over this for a moment before asking, "So basically, what you're saying is that a group of survivors from a long-dead race pulled through an ancient disaster and screwed a bunch of local women, who then gave birth to half-breeds?"

Athena frowned at this, but replied, "Well, if you want to put it that crudely, yes, that's essentially what happened."

"I see…" Zeraion muttered. "Athena, is there any information on what the Saiyans looked like? What their capabilities were?"

"There was plenty in the ruins we discovered." The bowmistress answered. "Many ruins like this one were scattered all over Victoria Island and Ossyria. Saiyans looked more or less like a human, albeit more muscular than an average human. The Saiyans were a war-like people; they shared an innate enjoyment for conflict and fighting, often choosing violence over peace with other races. They were also an intensely proud race, with a society heavily based around honor and social hierarchy. Even an average Saiyan would be more powerful than a fourth-class individual in today's times – the Saiyans were just that strong."

"Uh, yeah, Athena, we don't really care what the culture of an ancient civilisationn was like. Just get to the point – _what do the Saiyans have to do with us?_"Ryden almost snapped, his patience wearing thin with the long-winded explanation.

Heaving an exasperated groan, Athena finally relented. "All right, Ryden, since you're so impatient, I'll just cut to the chase. You and Zeraion, you both are of Saiyan bloodline."

_

* * *

_

Zeraion's heart stopped beating for a split second before it remembered what it was supposed to do and resumed doing so. There was a long, pregnant silence before Ryden broke it after several unbearably quiet moments.

"Care to run that by me again?"

"Your ancestors were Saiyan, son of Dracon. You too, son of Rafael. Your parents – Ryden's father and both of Zeraion's parents, to be precise – they were Saiyan hybrids." Grendel explained. "The secret of the Saiyans is one that has been well-kept by us. Nobody but us, along with a select few – Koaxia amongst them – know of the ancient warrior race."

"Wait, but if I'm of Saiyan bloodline, what about my brothers?" Zeraion asked, confused.

"You, out of Avelyn's three sons, inherited the greatest portion of Saiyan power from her. Due to genetic variation, not as much of her power was passed on to either Ark or Ascion as it was to you. They are, of course, still above the norm, but the Saiyan blood within them has been heavily diluted, suppressing most of a Saiyan's natural abilities."

"I see. So who else was aware of this 'heritage' of theirs? I imagine nobody?" The ranger quipped.

"Indeed. The Saiyans were largely dismissed as folklore and legends, even though their legacy still walks amongst us today. It lives on in several select individuals in today's world, and they are all that is left of them."

"Any records on who these individuals might be?" Ryden enquired.

"It is relatively easy to tell who is of Saiyan bloodline." Grendel replied. "Every single great individual who has been recorded in Bera's history is in fact of Saiyan bloodline. Dracon, Rafael and Avelyn were only a handful of those who were more recent – there were several others who came even before them. There was great archmage Zarithos, who quelled the ancient Balrog Uprisings even before your great-grandparents had diapers. The daring bowmistress Sylvianis, who hunted down the most lethal and dangerous creatures of the forest of Sleepywood, rumored to be even more powerful than the dreaded Balrogs, so that colonists could settle down safely inside. The mighty hero Alvanius, who braved the treacherous mountains of Perion to slay the ancient dragons that had been terrorizing the populace. All of these individuals, you have learned of them and their achievements in your history lessons, but it was never explained how they came to be so powerful that they could accomplish such inhuman feats with such great ease. With the knowledge of the Saiyans however, this mystery was easily explained."

"How exactly was it explained then? I mean, can't people grow stronger just by training? Surely they could have reached that level of power simply through dedicated practice and training?" Ryden asked.

"Growing stronger is not as simple as you think, son of Dracon." Dances with Balrog answered. "Look at it this way. At birth, a person's power level is classified at an arbitrary number, and as the person ages, that power level increases with training up till a certain point, at which the individual is already at his or her peak and cannot progress any further without risking severe self-harm. The level and limit as to which a person's power can increase through natural means varies from individual from individual, but invariably, if they try to break that limit, the destructive elements of their own power is reversed upon them, most often resulting in death."

"This is how individuals like Sylvianis and Alvanius ascended to such heights of power – how people like Dracon, Rafael and Avelyn became so strong." Grendel continued for the master warrior. "Even though the true power of the Saiyan bloodline had remained untapped, their base power was still greater than the average person, thus resulting in them being above the norm. Combine that already higher-than-average base power with a Saiyan's ability to increase his or her own power exponentially with dedicated training, and you'll have an individual whose natural power already exceeds even that than somebody who outclasses them by a single job-grade. Even though Dracon was of Saiyan bloodline, he was unaware of his 'distinguished' ancestry. His blood had one of the greatest portions of 'Saiyan' in it ever recorded within his generation, thus making him one of the most powerful individuals on Bera during his time. His power was passed on to you, Ryden, but even the power of the Saiyan bloodline still remains untapped within you."

Ryden had no idea what to make of this. "Great. So I guess this explains why I outclass pretty much everybody else in the whole damned army?"

"Don't get cocky, Ryden." Athena reprimanded. "You may be much more powerful than the average person, but you're still not the strongest in the world. Judging from our projections of the power levels that Necropolis' guildmaster has achieved, he could cut you down in a heartbeat if he wished to."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Grendel cleared his throat to signal for attention. "As I was going to begin explaining, the distinguishing power of a Saiyan is its ability to manipulate and control mana with its bare hands. In our current age, mana is known as an extremely deadly force that, when harnessed properly, is capable of achieving immense amounts of destruction. However, the harnessing and control of mana normally requires a medium to channel it through before artes and spells can be cast; for example a weapon such as a sword, a dagger, or a wand. There are currently no known cases where mana can be channeled and controlled with one's bare hands, but barring recorded history, the Saiyans were the only race capable of doing so."

Zeraion's mouth was agape at this revelation. A race that could actually utilize mana at will, and with their bare hands? If the power of this bloodline could be unlocked within him, virtually nothing in this could stop him! Nothing! Not even Gault!

Athena was observing him with a watchful eye, and she knew her student all too well. "I know what you're thinking, Phoenix. But controlling mana without any medium to channel it through is no mean feat. For a Saiyan, it would be like second-nature to them, but the only Saiyans left alive now are hybrids, and as I have said before, that means that some of a Saiyan's natural abilities have been partially suppressed due to the dilution of their bloodline."

The ranger's face fell. "So you're saying that it's going to be very difficult for us to accomplish what was natural for our ancestors?"

"Your _ancient_ ancestors." Grendel reminded the young commander. "The art of controlling one's mana with one's bare hands is one that has nearly been lost to the sands of time, and we are still in the midst of attempting to rediscover it fully. Researching this art is highly dangerous, and if attempted carelessly, the repercussions could be fatal."

"Whoa, wait a minute. _We _are the midst of rediscovering it?" Ryden asked with a perplexed look on his face.

"It may not have occurred to you yet, but let me ask you, son of Dracon. How do you think _we _four have ascended to such heights of power such that we are able to rule and govern this world?" The Dark Lord replied.

"Of course. You're Saiyan hybrids as well." Ryden concluded with a smirk.

Dances with Balrog responded with a large grin. "The boy catches on quick. Some day, he may surpass even his father!"

"So that's the whole point of this extended briefing? To tell us that we're of 'distinguished' ancestry? What's the point if you can't teach us how to tap into this power and use it?" Ryden asked them.

"We can't really teach you how to use this power, son of Dracon – we are in the midst of rediscovering it ourselves. You will have to learn to unlock and tap into this power on your own." Grendel answered sadly. "Believe me when I say we wish we could do more, but there is nothing left for us to do. You will have to discover the power of the Saiyans within you by yourselves."

Ryden heaved an exasperated sigh. "Great. Just great."

Zeraion, on the other hand, wasn't so thankless. He elbowed his squadmate in the side for his rude reply, and bowed to the wise men. "Thank you for this knowledge, Athena. I'll be sure to dedicate all my available time to _carefully_ unlock this power." He placed emphasis on the word 'carefully' just so that his mentor knew that he wouldn't be recklessly endangering himself.

"You make sure you do that, Phoenix." Athena replied sternly. "One slip-up, and you may end up crippled, or worse, dead. We have enough dead heroes in this war as it is, but we also need all the power we can get."

"A reminder before you two leave," Dances announced, "Whatever was said within this room stays within this room. The Saiyans are a closely guarded secret, and they shall remain so."

"Whatever you say, sir." Ryden muttered indifferently as he turned to leave the room. Zeraion quickly followed, and as the duo exited through the double doors, Athena sighed heavily and placed a hand over her face.

"I really hope we won't regret this." She murmured softly to herself, echoing what the other three in the room were thinking as well.

* * *

**The day before…**

At this time of day the library was normally empty, and Astella made good use of that fact to explore the Restricted Section.

The Restricted Section was given its name for a very good reason – the texts that lay hidden there dabbled in the darkest of arts that had ever existed, and only the most powerful or highest-ranking members of the guild were ever allowed in there. Astella was hardly considered powerful by Necropolis standards, neither did she possess a high rank, but how exactly she had managed to break through the wards that sealed off the Restricted Section from the rest of the library was best left unsaid.

And so here she was, spending the better part of the day combing the library for any volumes that could possibly contain information on Dracon. Her search hadn't turned up any useful information on the legendary crusader or his sword, and she was beginning to get highly frustrated. The priestess hadn't expected any intrusion during her search, which was why she nearly bolted off the moment somebody came up from behind her.

"It seems you haven't been able to locate the book you seek." The newcomer said calmly as he slowly approached her. Keeping a cool, stoic exterior, Astella remained silent and merely replaced the book she had been browsing through back on the shelf.

"Allow me to help you." The unseemly stranger continued. He was wearing a set of black warlock robes that were normally reserved for the higher-ranking members and had his head shaved bald, so Astella assumed that this newcomer was indeed a guild superior. Deciding that her rank was better left unspoken, the priestess kept her lips sealed.

"There are many, many ancient texts here. Some are… _forbidden_. Those volumes are kept far from public view." The warlock continued, taking a peek at the title of the volume Astella had been looking at. "It appears you are seeking information on the legendary warrior Dracon. Have you read the texts recording that legend?"

Astella merely turned her head to set the gaze of her right eye on the stranger.

"Upon awakening to virtue, Dracon turned upon the brethren of his guild, and confronted his lord, who ruled over all of the dark powers. In his rage, Dracon tore him _asunder._" The warlock continued to speak. "Fearing his awesome power, he sealed away not only the demons that his guild had set loose, but his own sword and powers as well. A beautiful legend, is it not? Evil became good, and the darkness was sealed away forever. Dracon's legend knows no equal, would you not say?"

The priestess had had enough of the warlock's incessant preaching. "Great story, old man. Can't wait for the movie. However, _that's _not the book I'm _looking for_. So save your breath."

The warlock merely smiled. "Then… what tale _do _you seek?"

"It's none of your business, old man. Get out of my face." Astella huffed before grabbing her staff, which was leaning against the shelf next to her, and turning to leave. As she walked past the warlock, the man grinned.

"I can help you, you know. To acquire the power that Dracon sealed away. All you need is to remove the only obstacle in your way – the legendary crusader's son…"

There was a brief flash of steel, and the sharp end of a katana was leveled at the warlock's neck. A small red line appeared on his cheek as blood began to seep from the small cut.

"That's strike two." Astella breathed threateningly, holding in her other hand the empty sheath that looked like the body of a staff but was in fact a scabbard for her katana – one that Ryden had given to her ages ago on the insistence that she learn some physical combat and not rely on her magic too much. Right now she was relieved that Ryden had provided her with that, because this warlock could easily counter any magical attack she used against him.

"The next one lands across your _neck._" She finished, leaving her threat hanging in the air.

The warlock merely smiled, and took a step backwards, hands raised. "Very well. But heed this – there are reasons those texts are forbidden. People subconsciously fear evil. And yet, many are drawn to it, like moths to the flame. It whispers to them, offering great power. It is, in fact, the ultimate equalizer. They embrace it, yet their fear makes them rationalize their actions, because they cannot bear to recognize the_ evil _inside _them_. The texts you seek contain knowledge and temptations many would consider, even by Necropolis standards… _unnatural_. It is wise that people know the presence of evil and fear it. Because when you gaze into the abyss…"

The warlock's eyes locked with Astella's, and she finally noticed with alarm that the warlock's eyes were mismatched – a deep red iris for his left, and an ocean blue iris for his right.

"… **_the abyss also looks back into you." _**

Astella kept silent for a few moments before lowering her katana and sheathing it. "You done, tall, bald and ugly?"

The warlock's smile widened. "Quite. My name is Turel. Now… let us talk about the son of Dracon."

* * *

**Several hours later… **

The two magicians stood at the base of the colossal structure, one that was still buried deep underground. It wouldn't last that way for long – in a matter of days, the tower would rise, and Dracon's power would be theirs.

Turel looked at Astella, who stood to his left and was staring at the base of the still as-of-yet buried tower with an expression that bordered on awe.

"The activation method is as I described before. It should be a simple matter for you." The warlock told her, turning on his heel and walking back to the exit. "I will go to his place. I believe that I know where the item we seek is located."

Astella turned to watch Turel leave, and as the warlock disappeared through the stone archway that led out of the area, he called out one last statement to her.

"You should dispose of any obstacles _quickly_."

As if on cue, four demon skeletons materialized from the ground around her. Sentries – magically animated remains that were programmed to eliminate anything that wandered too close to whatever they had been assigned to guard.

The undead creatures slowly began to shamble towards her, dragging along disproportionately large scythes behind their decaying leg bones. Unholy moans and incoherent noises tore themselves from nearly fleshless throats as the skeletons sluggishly approached the lone priestess. Astella remained motionless throughout it all, even when two additional skeletons emerged from the ground behind her, shambling closer.

Slowly, the demons shuffled towards the priestess, and when the closest was within mere feet of her, the demons sprung into action. They all leapt towards her as one with a savage cry, intent on burying her beneath their numbers…

But they never even touched her. The moment the closest demon took to the air, Astella's perception of the world slowed down to a crawl as she used her magical abilities to augment her reflexes and speed. The closest undead skeleton nearly froze in mid-air as time slowed down for her, the scythe moving so slowly that it would have taken an epoch for it to arrive at her neck.

All around her, the other demons had also slowed down, moving so sluggishly it appeared as though they had been frozen solid, their weapons only slowly but surely inching towards her flesh. The priestess stood stock still for a moment… then all hell broke loose.

Exploding into a flurry of movement, Astella gracefully spun in a full circle and used her staff to methodically slam aside the incoming scythes one by one. Once they had all been parried, she spun around to face the demon closest to her and brandished her katana, the blade glowing an intense white briefly as she unsheathed it, infusing the blade with the power of her holy arts.

A flash of silver cut across the air in front of the foremost skeleton, accompanied by a brief but audible _zing!_

A second later, the two severed halves of said foremost skeleton clattered to the floor in front of her with blood squirting from its exposed innards, the bones exploding into tiny fragments soon after hitting the ground. And by the time the bones hit the ground, Astella was already several meters away from where she used to be, right behind another one of the approaching skeletons with her katana extended behind her. There was another _zing!_, and the upper torso of the undead demon fell to the ground, the lower half of its body soon following suit in a fountain of crimson.

Then time sped back up to normal, and the corpses of the zombified demons disintegrated into dust, leaving no trace of their presence behind. Astella straightened herself and smoothly sheathed her katana, duly noting the additional skeletons that emerged from the ground to replace those that she had slain. Even more of the undead emerged from the walls, shambling towards her with their scythes raised. The one closest to her was practically right next to her, swinging its blade down with enough force to cleave her in half.

Contemptuously glancing to the side at the assaulting demon, she simply twitched aside slightly, the blade of the scythe harmlessly passing by her body with several inches to spare. As the demon's weapon slammed into the ground, Astella knocked it out of the skeleton's hands with the scabbard of her weapon before drawing her katana in a flash of holy energy and slashing the demon in half.

The rest of the undead demons shared the same fate, to have their weapons knocked aside or to be knocked into the air themselves before being sliced apart by Astella's katana. The _coup de grace_ was finally delivered as Astella swung her hand upwards in a burst of telekinetic power, throwing the last three demons upward into the air and bunching them together above her, making them easy targets for her holy-infused sword.

Taking a short dash backwards, she set her katana in a charging position behind her, the blade flaring an intense white as divine energy flowed into the blade. With a mere flick of her arm, she lashed outwards and shouted, "Judgement Cut!"

A lance of silver energy shot forth from the tip of her blade as she slashed at them, and the three skeletons were cleaved in two, their blood showering down upon her and staining her chocolate brown locks, turning it a deep red and plastering it to her head.

But even as the end seemed to be in sight, more of the demons emerged from the walls and ground, coming in numbers twice as many as she had previously slain.

_They just don't when to quit! _The priestess thought frustratedly to herself. _All right then. Time to end this!_

With a loud war cry, she charged forth like an avatar of war, wildly slashing away at the undead skeletons, giving them little time to realize they had been slashed, let alone react. Bursts of white energy followed her passing, stunning the undead demons and stopping them in their tracks. Then, at the end of her charge, she took a few seconds to catch her breath, before turning around to admire her handiwork. The undead guardians who had tried in vain to stop her were now either lying on the floor in pieces, or crawling around trying to find their other half.

The final nail in their coffin had been slammed down. No more guardians would be emerging any time soon.

Deciding to be merciful, Astella put the guardians out of their supposed misery by unleashing a large blast of holy energy from her palm, disintegrating the remnants of the skeletons and effectively erasing them from existence. Flicking the demons' blood off her katana's blade, Astella smoothly sheathed it and raised a hand to her bloodstained locks, revealing the name _Yamato_ that had been carved onto the sword's hilt. With a flick of her wrist and a brief burst of telekinetic power, the blood was swept off her hair, restoring her chocolate brown tresses to their former glory. The bloodstains on her clothes did the same, landing on the ground in a fine spray.

Immaculate once more, the priestess slowly strode forward to the entrance of the buried tower. Going up the steps that led to the giant double-doors that barred the way in, she stopped a few feet in front of it, and lowered her head, closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself and taking a deep breath.

"It begins…"

Her emerald green eyes opened once more, and for a split-second, they flashed a deep, demonic red.

* * *

**Back to the present…**

"If you ask me, Zer, it's about time we got some real action." Ryden remarked as he slapped on his plate armor, securing the angular plates together and rotating his arms to test its mobility.

"Ryden, what the hell are you talking about? We've had action ever since this damned war started. It's just that you never went on any missions with us. Always insisted on not taking any 'babysitting jobs'." The ranger replied as he slipped on his chain mail armor, snapping the links closed to secure it as well before grabbing the Abyssal Arund off the rack in the Dead Six's section in the armory.

"They _are _babysitting jobs, Zer. All you guys ever do is coddle the rookies and make sure they don't get hurt. We've never gotten a chance to strike at Necropolis directly before, you know." The crusader commented as he hefted Spiral off a crossbow rack, slamming in a magazine of pre-fragmented bolts and pumping the slide to chamber a bolt. Ryden then grabbed Kalina Ann and a quiver of regular arrows, sliding them over his shoulder.

"Yeah, you're right about that." Zeraion reluctantly agreed, grabbing a 'Torque Bow' Longbow and sliding it into a back holster over his right shoulder. The Torque Bow was a recent development by GDI's R&D department, as were several other weapons that were also stored in the armory that the duo were suiting up in now. The Torque Bow was an unusual weapon in most respects, firing grenade-tipped arrows that didn't behave like regular arrow bombs. Instead of detonating on impact like a conventional arrow bomb, the arrow embedded itself in its target and remained so for several agonizing seconds before finally exploding, tearing apart the unfortunate target and anybody else who happened to be nearby. The body of the bow had also been modified, fashioned into a pair of deadly blades that were fatally effective at close combat. Rangers who had been drafted into GDI's commando programme usually opted for this weapon, and Zeraion had found it to be a good backup to the Abyssal Arund. The ranger grabbed a quiver of Torque Bow arrows in addition to another quiver of regular arrows, and slung the regular quiver over his shoulder while slotting the Torque Bow ammo into the thigh section of his armor.

Ryden in the meantime grabbed two canisters of Ilbis from a nearby ammo shelf, and brought out Ebony & Ivory from their back holsters, loading the twin claws one by one with expert efficiency – tossing the two new clips into the air before grabbing E&I and ejecting their nearly-empty canisters of steelies, then spinning the two claws upside down until their clip receivers were facing upwards, and letting the two fresh shuriken canisters land perfectly inside the claws.

Zeraion stared at Ryden. "You know I get insanely jealous of your reflexes when you do that."

The crusader responded with a cocky grin. "That's the whole point of it."

Spinning the two claws back upright again, Ryden took off the safeties for both weapons simultaneously, and cocked the slides back.

"Now. Let's rock this joint."

* * *

A/N: Ok I know it isn't my place to ask you this especially after the extremely long wait I put you guys through, but_ please please please _don't let the delay get in the way of submitting your reviews! I have the second part of this chapter halfway ready, but I figured I'd divide it into two parts instead of makig you guys wait for the whole, completed thing. I'm trying my best here, but I'm busy with helping out with the production of my school's musical, so I can't make any promises about when the next part is going to come out, as much as I'd like to. Whatever it may be, I just hope that you readers will remain loyal to this fic, because it _will _be completed one day!

Chief, signing out.


	19. Bloodlines: Part II

Disclaimer: We don't own nothing, so there.

* * *

(A/N 2: This isn't an update, very sorry about that, but thanks to Zaverius Eagle for pointing out an error that I did not notice before. It has been corrected, along with minor punctuation, spelling and grammar errors. Oh and one more thing; _REVIEWS pl0x s0 taht i cen rite teh next cahpter!!11!!11_)

A/N: You might notice a few typos, a few words fused together, or some funny little square popping up in between words instead of a space occasionally. I dunno why these are appearing either but it seems that the new document manager is acting pretty funky. Either way, sorry about the delay, school musical rehearsals as well as registration exercises and sign-ups for orientation camps in my new polytechnic have been keeping me really busy, and I managed to squeeze this thing out sooner mainly because I've been using my new laptop to type out my chapters while I'm riding on the train or the bus. Inspiration seems to flow out more easily from there, oddly enough. Anyway, here's Part II of Bloodlines. Enjoy! D

* * *

Chapter 18: Bloodlines – Part II

**1647 HOURS, JUNE 6, 1844 (MILITARY CALENDAR) / ELLINIA SECTOR 111, CAMP NEW HOPE **

Ryden Dracon, designated by GDI's 'SPARTAN' commando programme as SPARTAN-117, call-sign 'Havoc', moved like a shadow through the twilight underbrush despite being encased in a half ton of angular MJOLNIR plate armor.

The guard on the perimeter of Necropolis' Ellinian base 'New Hope' drew on a cigarette, took a final puff, and tossed the butt.

Ryden lunged, a whisper rustle, and he wrapped his arm around the man's neck, wrenching it with a _pop_.

The guard's cigarette hit the ground.

Nearby crickets resumed their night song.

Ryden reached up to his helmet's comm. system and pinged his status to the rest of the Dead Six. Five green LED lights winked on his helmet display, indicating the rest of the extended perimeter guards had been neutralized.

_This is too easy. I could take on this whole damned fortress myself. _The crusader thought cockily to himself as he faded back into the underbrush of the forest town.

His own objective was to strike at the Necropolis command center, which lay only half a klick in front of him. However he had to wait until the rest had finished neutralizing their own targets before he could move to strike at his own. Impatience was one of the traits he had developed over the course of the war, but Ryden knew when to rein in his lust for Necropolis blood in order to get the job done properly.

The crusader blinked his status light green: the signal to proceed with the next phase of the operation.

Out from the corner of his field of vision he saw two small, dark figures burst out from the underbrush, sprinting across open ground momentarily before reaching the fortress wall and backing up against it. The crusader held his breath for several moments, waiting for an alarm to sound.

When there was nothing, Ryden silently sighed in relief as he watched Roxi and Delinia slip inside the bunker leading to the underground power plants, the guards none the wiser regarding their unexpected visitors.

It was only minutes before he would have his vengeance upon Necropolis. Ryden settled down in the underbrush on his haunches and stared at the Necropolis command center.

He was _so_ going to enjoy this.

* * *

Roxi Leinharte quickly slipped through the bunker's doorway, backing up against the corridor wall as Lieutenant Arklanser moved inside.

"Clear." Delinia whispered to the fire mage, and lowered her Torque Bow. "Looks like the guards didn't notice us."

"Let's hope it stays that way." Roxi murmured. Delinia's ears perked up as she heard the scrape of a booted foot.

"Footsteps. Coming around the corner."

"Guard. I'll handle him."

Before Delinia could say otherwise, Roxi straightened her right arm and flexed it, the Fiery Phoenix wand slipping out of her robe sleeve and into her hand. The duo locked eyes for a moment, and then they nodded. Roxi darted ahead, moving as silently as a shadow, and slunk around the corner like a panther, a tiny ball of flame quietly flaring to life in her left palm, which she quickly hid behind her back.

The guard had only taken a step into the corridor, and was about to turn when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, an orange-haired young woman dressed in mage robes striding towards him with a charming smile on her face.

The guard hadn't been posted to his station for nothing. He immediately raised his weapon, a crossbow, and hefted it in the woman's general direction. "This is a restricted area, ma'am. You're going to have to leave."

The young woman seemed surprised. "This area's restricted? I thought this was the barracks!"

"No, the barracks is in the northern section of the fortress. Are you a new recruit or something?" The guard replied scornfully.

The girl seemed rather sheepish. "Oh, geez. Sorry. I had no idea. I'll just be on my way now."

The sentry scoffed. "Yeah, you do that." Dropping his guard for a crucial moment, the sentry turned to continue down the corridor, assuming the girl would just leave.

The last thing he felt was a silky robe sleeve slipping itself around his neck, and the sensation of something burning hot entering his skull…

Roxi dropped the sentry's corpse, letting the tiny ball of flame in her palm extinguish itself. The hole in the man's skull still smoldered, and she was beginning to smell the stench of roasted cerebrum.

"That's going to be pretty noticeable in a while." Arklanser commented as she came up beside Roxi and toed the corpse.

"By the time we're done here, nobody's gonna be around to notice it." Roxi replied with a grin.

Delinia grinned as well. "Guess you're right about that."

The duo continued past the dead guard, coming up to a turn in the corridor. Delinia took a quick peek around the wall, and then quickly darted back into cover. The door to the collective reactor for the underground power plants was right at the end of the corridor, but two more armed guards who were hefting massive blades with wicked edges flanked the entrance.

Delinia glanced at Roxi. The fire mage nodded, giving her to go-ahead.

Delinia stepped around the corner and approached the two guards, smiling. Roxi knew the rangeress' smile wasn't friendly. She was smiling because she was getting a chance to put all her commando training to a real test.

Delinia waved to the guard and pulled open the door. He asked her to stop and show her identification.

She stepped inside, grabbed his blade by its flat edge, twisted, and dragged him inside with her.

The other guard stepped back and reared his blade back. Roxi sprang at him from behind, grabbed his neck and plunged the same tiny ball of flame into his cranium, then dragged his limp body inside.

The entry room to the reactor chamber had cinderblock walls and a steel door with a swipe-card lock. A surveillance ward dangled limply over Delinia's head. The guard she had dragged in lay at her feet, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

The rangeress looked up at Roxi and grinned. "Too easy."

The fire mage walked up to the steel door barring the way into the reactor chamber, and reared back her right arm, a huge ball of fire igniting itself in her palm.

"Stand back!" Roxi exclaimed before hurling the fireball forward. Delinia leapt backwards, anticipating an explosion to blow the doors inward, but all that happened was the ball of fire adhered itself to the steel door and spread its flames all over through the barrier, beginning to rapidly burn its way through.

The flame-haired rangeress raised an eyebrow, and commented, "Hmm. Unorthodox, but effective. Definitely more subtle than an explosion."

Roxi grinned. "I've been working on that arte for months now. Come on – let's turn their lights out."

* * *

Commander Zeraion Phoenix lay down in the underbrush on his stomach next to Major Rysdale Tales, peering at the rooftops of New Hope's communications building through the 10x magnification scope of his partner's Longshot crossbow.

"What do you see?" Tales whispered to him, busy tinkering with his other weapon, the Hammerburst crossbow.

"Three guards posted on the rooftop. Another two are guarding the front entrance. Judging from their armor and weapons, I'd say the three on the rooftop are Snipers while the two at the front entrance are Dragon Knights." Zeraion reported, turning his head to watch as Rysdale inserted a 36-mini bolt magazine into the Hammerburst and pulled the bowstring back to cock the weapon manually.

"Any back doors?" The bespectacled sniper enquired. Zeraion peered back into the scope, surveying the building for a few more moments.

"None." The ranger sighed. "Looks like it's gonna be breaking and entering for us."

The sniper merely smiled. "And that's my favorite kind of entrance."

The two sat in silence for a few moments before the lights in the base were all extinguished simultaneously. Shouts of alarm soon followed as the base personnel expressed their shock at this unexpected turn of events.

"That's our cue." Tales muttered. "Let's go."

The two bowmen shot up from their hiding places, and within the blink of an eye, they were gone.

* * *

Two dark shapes, one large and the other lithe, landed on the ground without so much of a whisper, and as one they dashed towards their respective objectives.

The lithe silhouette reached his target first, coming up against the wall of the barracks. Circling around the building and keeping close to the wall, he soon arrived at the back door.

A single guard was posted there, the low-leveled fighter's gladius hanging from his belt loosely. The sentry was leaning back against the wall, relaxing and taking a drag from his cigarette, completely unaware that his death was mere moments away.

As the guard dropped his cigarette and raised his foot to stamp out the cigarette butt, the dark figure lunged forward and grabbed the guard's neck before plunging a black dagger into the hollow beside the man's collarbone, instantly severing the carotid artery, the subclavian, and the jugular. The man gasped, jerked once, then went still. The dark figure eased the corpse to the ground, and slipped silently through the back door, swinging the door shut behind him.

As Tora Drakeson stepped into the barracks, he noted that the corridors were pitch-black, all the lights having been switched off, so he flipped his hunting visor over his face.

Tora's hunting visor was actually a modified version of the standard night-vision/infrared goggles provided for GDI commandoes. Extensive tinkering with the goggles' electronics and multiple add-ons had transformed Tora's NV goggles into a virtual bio mask. The chief bandit's modifications included the addition of two additional vision modes – electromagnetic vision, which allowed him to detect energy sources by contrasting them with the background, and neuro vision, which allowed him to determine his enemies' emotional status; whether they were calm, panicking, hostile, etc.

Other additions included a breathing mask, a binocular function, and a scanning-diagnostic capability that allowed him to analyze his target's capabilities in detail. Putting it shortly, Tora's hunting mask, in addition to other weapons and gear he had modified for personal use, made him the ultimate hunter.

As the chief bandit slowly crept forward to first door in the corridor, he flexed his left arm, extending the wristblades that he had installed into his gauntlet. Crouching down next to the locked door, he slowly slid the wristblades into the lock and, with a deft flick of his wrist, severed the lock with a quiet _schnick!_

Extracting his wristblades, he relaxed his arm, sliding the blades back into his gauntlet. Silently twisting the knob, the chief bandit eased the door open, stepping inside slowly.

Double-decker beds flanked him on both sides, rows of them stretching on until the end of the room. Necropolis soldiers lay asleep on their bunks, some of them breathing silently, while others snored like foghorns. Tora knew that if one of them woke up and saw him, thereby sounding the alarm, there was no way he would be able to fight them off by himself. However, his style of operation almost completely eliminated that possibility – he had learnt long ago that guerilla tactics were those that best worked for him.

The chief bandit reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of meso bills worth about fifty thousand, and laid it carefully down on the floor in the center of the room. Slipping out of the room like a shadow, Tora closed the door silently behind him, creeping over to the next door in the corridor.

The chief bandit repeated his course of action for the next several rooms in the corridor, until every single room had a stack of meso bills planted inside. His task accomplished, Tora quickly but quietly dashed outside the barracks, then keyed his headset.

"Barracks is set. Wolfen, what's your status?"

_"Having a hell of a time, Drakeson. I'll radio in to the Commander once I'm done, then you'll get the go ahead."_

It was only minutes later before he heard Ark's voice come over the squad's COM channel, reporting his success in completely obliterating the contents of New Hope's armory.

_"Good work, Ark."_ Zeraion acknowledged. _"Tora, I believe that's your cue."_

"Roger that, Commander." Tora dropped his hand from his headset to one of his many waist pouches, and pulled a handful of 50 meso coins from it. With a flick of his wrist, he scattered the coins towards the barracks. As the money lazily streaked through the air, Tora snapped his fingers, whispering "Meso Explosion."

The barracks exploded in a tremendous detonation, a gigantic fireball rising from the wreckage of the building, coupled with the ghastly stench of flesh frying on the griddle. Tora stood there for a moment to admire his handiwork, then turned around and darted back into the foliage of the forest surrounding the base, melding into the shadows.

* * *

As the barracks detonated behind them in an explosive display of pyrotechnics, Zeraion stepped over the corpses of the sentries guarding the comm. center, backing up against the wall next to the door as he dismissed his thunder spear. To his left, Tales did the same, the ice katana in his hand disappearing from his grip. The Sniper reached over his shoulder and unlimbered the Hammerburst crossbow, nodding to Zeraion.

Acknowledging the signal, the ranger turned to face the door and promptly booted it down, aiming the Abyssal Arund down the entrance.

"Clear!" Zeraion whispered once he had ascertained that the corridor was empty. Tales immediately moved in, Hammerburst crossbow leveled squarely ahead; ready to gun down anything that emerged.

A side door in the corridor open, and a Necropolis communications officer stepped through, looking through a file of papers. The officer glanced up, saw the two commandoes and was about to shout for help when Tales pulled the trigger of his Hammerburst, firing from the hip.

The 3-bolt burst issued from the crossbow with a muffled cough, thanks to the suppressor that Tales had attached to his weapon, and it hit the officer squarely in his chest. The Necropolis soldier was thrown backwards without so much as a cry, his file hitting the floor with a dull _thud_

Zeraion quickly rushed forward and checked the body. Confirming that the officer was dead, he turned back to Tales and gave him a thumbs up. The sniper nodded and moved down the corridor, Zeraion joining him. As the two came to the door at the end of the corridor, Tales motioned for Zeraion to hold position. The ranger froze, watching as Tales shifted his grip on the Hammerburst to his left hand and snapped open his right palm. His blizzard sword materialized in his hand as he closed his fist on its frozen handle, and he booted down the door. Shouts of alarm followed Tales' entrance as he barged into the main room of the communications building.

There were four men in the room, three of them out of reach of the blizzard sword and the last one conveniently right next to him. The men stared at Tales, shocked into inaction at this sudden intrusion, and the sniper made good use of that.

Reversing his grip on the blizzard sword, he slashed outwards, the blade tearing out the throat of the Necropolis soldier next to him in a shower of crimson. Following that, he flicked his left arm out in the general direction of the other three men in an almost careless motion, raking the sights of the Hammerburst across the men's heads and pulling the trigger.

Three rounds spat out of the crossbow's barrel – three bodies hit the floor.

Zeraion immediately stepped in after Tales, and glanced at the corpses on the ground. "Lucky shot." The ranger muttered as he eyed the soldiers that had been shot to death by Tales' Hammerburst.

"Shot_s_." Tales reminded Zeraion, gesturing towards the communications equipment that filled the room. "All yours, Zer."

The young commander raised his bow and leveled it squarely at the large bank of communications equipment in front of him. "Inferno Strafe!"

The four fireballs spat out of the longbow, slamming into the equipment and totally incinerating it, leaving only a pile of smoldering ashes and molten slag in its wake. Zeraion exhaled and slung the Abyssal Arund back over his shoulder. "We're done here. Let's go."

* * *

Captain Traphes Igzarion saw the lights of the communications building go out, and silently acknowledged Tales' success before turning back to his target and tearing his throat out with the Sanguine Stiletto shadow-dagger he held in his hand. The Necropolis guard gurgled as his blood flowed freely down his throat, choking him, and his death rattle echoed throughout the corridor. Igzarion got to his feet and wiped the blood off the blade of his dagger, turning to face the two terrified guards who were standing behind him.

Igzarion had torn through the field hospital like a crimson tornado, slaughtering all in his path indiscriminately, be it patient, doctor, nurse or guard. Dead bodies followed in his wake, accompanied by copious amounts of blood decorating the walls and floor. The ranger extended a hand towards the guard on the left, and muttered "Leonazium."

Runes immediately surrounded his unfortunate victim, and before the guard could even utter a sound, Traphes clenched his hand into a fist, causing the runes to detonate in a fiery explosion and spraying the floor with what looked like red paint.

The last remaining guard let out a small whimper before turning tail and bolting down the corridor. Igzarion merely smirked, and in a flash of darkness he suddenly appeared right in front of the fleeing guard.

The Necropolis soldier barely had time to even scream before Traphes lifted up his forearm and smacked the guard across the face, sending him flying backwards. The guard landed with a loud "Oof!", and when he scrambled onto his back to look back at Traphes, the ranger was gone.

There was the brief sound of a motor revving up from behind him, and the guard slowly turned his head upwards, looking up behind him, dreading to see what was there.

Igzarion stood right over fallen guard's head, Lancer crossbow poised high over the guard's throat. The ranger thumbed the activation switch on his Lancer's grip, and the array of short blades that had been affixed to the front of the crossbow roared to life.

The guard had just enough time to register the incredulity of a chainsaw bayonet before the rotating blades descended upon his neck, severing his carotid artery and cutting through the vertebrae with a wet _schliiick!_

Igzarion yanked the bayonet out of the dead guard's neck in a spray of blood and flicked it off, re-holstering the crossbow in his back holster. In his opinion, the commando captain liked the Lancer the best, even though he was a ranger and by right should have been using a longbow instead of a crossbow. The simple reason was because of the Lancer's chainsaw bayonet – it was a weapon brutal beyond necessity, and Traphes liked it for that. It also favored brute force over finesse, differentiating it from its counterpart, the Hammerburst – it was designed for fully automatic fire instead of the normal 3-bolt bursts fired by the other, smaller crossbow.

Keying his COM, Traphes raised the receiver to his ear and whispered into it, "Hospital has been neutralized. Natalia, how are you doing over there?"

_"We're fine here, Iggy. Major Blade's cleaning up the rest of the… what was that Ascion? Oh, right. Yeah, we're done here. Training grounds are all clear." _

"Roger that." Traphes acknowledged. "Somebody get the word to the Commander – tell him to inform the Colonel that we're cleared for the last stage of the operation."

_"Got it. Hey Blade! Get word to your brother, tell him that we're all clear!" _

The captain lowered the receiver from his ear and tucked it back into his side pouch, glancing towards the command center of New Hope. From where he was watching he could see a dark figure darting straight towards the front entrance of the building, cutting down the two guards who were standing there like grass with two simple flashes of steel.

Traphes scoffed at the son of Dracon's tactics. The kid had no concept of stealth or tactics at all. He just charged straight into the fight all gung-ho, just seeking to deal as much damage to the enemy as possible. If not for the crusader's admirable and nearly incomparable skill, Igzarion would have written him off as dead. Still, the kid was the absolute best they had in this army, so the ranger guessed he would have to do.

As he watched the Ryden boot down the doors to the command center with a mighty kick, Traphes turned around and left the field hospital, heading for the rendezvous point.

Whether the son of Dracon liked it or not, he would be receiving help on this one.

* * *

Raising an ice-clad foot in front of him, Ryden smashed aside the metal-barred and bolted double-doors to the command center with a single kick from Shiva.

The guards barricaded inside immediately charged at him, all manner of dark artes and weapons brimming with unholy energy, eager to spill his blood. Ryden merely smirked, and allowed them to converge upon him. The foremost guard threw himself forward with a savage battle cry, swinging down his meat-cleaver axe in a mighty arc intended to cleave Ryden's head in two.

The crusader's body blurred, and suddenly the guard's strike went harmlessly wide, Ryden having subtly shifted himself to the side with a slight movement of his body. Before the guard could raise his weapon to attack again, the son of Dracon lashed out with a single punch from Ifrit, sending the unfortunate soldier flying back into his compatriots with a badly singed breastplate.

The rest of them continued, undeterred by the repelling of the first attacker. The crusader immediately dashed forward into the mob, dismissing his gauntlets and greaves in favor of his Deathbringer, drawing out Alastor in a brilliant flare of electric energy. The first few guards right in front of him flinched backwards as the energy washed over their armor, azure sparks playing over their protective wear, and Ryden used their hesitation to lethal effect.

The crusader shouted "Dance Macabre!" and the greatsword clasped within his grip intensified its natural power over lightning, sheathing it in electrical bolts and amplifying its power tenfold. With a mighty battle cry, the son of Dracon charged forth, swinging Alastor left and right in powerful slashes, forcing the entire mob back while leaving several of their number with several bloody wounds. Those who didn't retreat quickly enough from the rampaging warrior were quickly perforated by a follow-up flurry of devastating stabs, coming so quickly that it seemed as though a million were being unleashed at once. Five guards who were standing close together were caught in the maelstrom of thrusts, and were quickly turned into Swiss cheese, their bloody remains flung backwards as Ryden finished off his combo with a final, powerful forward stab that threw their corpses far back into the mob.

The guards quickly converged upon him once again, but this was a fatal mistake, for Ryden was not finished yet. With a smirk, the crusader lowered Alastor behind him and slashed it upwards in a mighty two-handed swing, the slash being so powerful that a powerful gust of wind followed in its wake, blowing nearly the entire mob off its feet. Those that were hit by the slash itself were instantly killed, while those thrown into the air flailed their limbs about, desperate for any purchase to halt their wild tumble.

Ryden's smirk widened – this was finally payback time. Rearing his sword back over his shoulder, he gathered power in his arms until they were bursting with energy and, channeling that power into his sword and lashing out with all his might, shouted, "Get outta here!"

The resulting wave of power unleashed from the sword was so massive that it instantly tore to shreds whatever got in its way. Every single guard that had been thrown into the air were like gnats in a storm – their struggling forms given no quarter as the power wave vaporized them almost instantaneously, their cries short and fleeting. Those few that were left standing stood frozen in the room, staring at the son of the legendary crusader in terror, their weapons having fallen to the ground from quivering hands.

One of the guards, a low-leveled assassin who wielded a mere Meba, quickly spun on his heel and cast Haste on himself, bolting from the room. But before he could even manage two paces, black lightning speared outwards from a corner of the room, striking the fleeing assassin and reducing him to a pile of ash before he could even utter a sound.

From that same corner the air shimmered for a moment, and out of the darkness stepped a hooded man clad in black cloak with several daggers sticking out of its sleeves.

"Retreat is death. You will fight to the end for Necropolis." The newcomer commanded the guards in an imposing voice.

The guards' collective resolve seemed to be strengthened by this newcomer, albeit most probably out of fear of him. Ryden guessed that the man was probably Melchiah, and as the few surviving guards charged at him recklessly with their weapons held high, Ryden dispatched them effortlessly with a few slashes and turned to face the cloaked man.

"Melchiah, right?" Ryden said cockily while hefting Alastor over his shoulder. "I've been looking forward to this."

The man merely looked upon him with an expression of contempt. "You seek revenge upon the one who murdered your mother. You seek Raveshaw, the Headhunter."

Ryden's temper flared the moment Melchiah mentioned his mother, and though he kept his expression set, he subconsciously tightened his grip on Alastor's handle. "Yeah well, since he's obviously not here, I guess I'll just have to settle for you." With a flourish, Ryden slammed his Deathbringer's tip into the floor, lightning crackling across the steel blade.

"You overestimate yourself, son of Dracon." Melchiah intoned emotionlessly. "My capabilities far exceed yours – defeating me is a non-existent dream for you."

Ryden's patience finally snapped. "Just shut up and _die!_" With a vicious cry, the crusader lunged forward, Alastor raised high over his head. His arms charged and brimming with energy, he channeled it through his Deathbringer and brought the massive blade down in a killing blow…

But it never came close to even making contact. The blade only millimeters from his skin, Melchiah dissolved into black smoke as though he were only a cheap shadow copy of himself, reappearing on the other side of the room more or less unscathed.

"I did warn you." Was the Voidwalker's emotionless reply before Ryden lunged forward again with a feral snarl, Alastor's blade singing through the air. The crusader attacked again and again, thrust after thrust, slash after slash, but Melchiah continuously evaded his assaults almost effortlessly, either giving them the slip at the last moment or disappearing in a cloud of black smoke before reappearing at the other end of the room.

With a frustrated growl, Ryden holstered Alastor over his back as Melchiah evaded his latest attack, a Stinger that Ryden had been sure the Voidwalker would be unable to avoid. "All right, then let's see you dodge this!" With a flourish, he brought out Ebony & Ivory from their back holsters and spun them stylishly on his fingers for a second before leveling them straight at Melchiah and shouting, "Honeycomb Fire!"

Firing E&I at speeds comparable to that of a gatling gun, a torrent of steel poured forth from the twin claws straight towards the Necropolis council member. Melchiah merely raised a forearm in front of himself, and a sheet of shadow materialized in front of him. The rush of Ilbis crashed against the shadow shield, the shurikens ricocheting off the barrier with almost no noticeable effect. Ryden cursed under his breath, but kept up the stream of Ilbis nonetheless, pulling the triggers with undiminished fervor.

His efforts paid off. Expending the last of his ammunition in a final burst of magically charged shots, Ryden finally managed to break Melchiah's shield, the shadowy barrier shattering like glass as the damage finally took its toll. The Voidwalker stumbled backwards momentarily as his shield splintered, but he quickly regained his balance and darted to the side, evading Ryden's follow-up as the crusader lunged forward with a Stinger attack that would have skewered him through his ribcage if not for his timely reaction.

"It appears I have underestimated you." Melchiah admitted grudgingly as he dusted himself off. "Nobody has ever managed to penetrate my shadow wards before. Very well then – I shall give you a further taste of my power. Behold, the might Necropolis has given me!"

Black lightning lanced across the Voidwalker's body as he brought forth his latent power, the shadows in the room seeming to bend and enfold themselves around the Necropolis council member. Ryden bit back a curse of surprise and stood his ground as a powerful gale began to blow forth from the Voidwalker, the sheer strength of the gust nearly taking him off his feet. Digging his heels into the ground and raising his arms in front of him, Ryden barely kept himself from flying into the air as Melchiah began to laugh maniacally. Gods knew what kind of power he was unleashing, but Ryden didn't care for much about power levels – if he wanted to take Melchiah down, he would take Melchiah down one way or another.

Finally, the gale died down, and Ryden lowered his arms only to be greeted by a sight unlike anything he had seen before.

Melchiah had surrounded himself in what seemed to be a cloak and suit of armor simultaneously, seemingly composed of living, sentient darkness. The very shadows themselves rippled and festered on the armor, yet Melchiah seemed totally unaffected by them, as though they were as much a part of him as he was a part of them.

"Well that's new." Ryden smirked cockily before holstering Ebony & Ivory and summoning Ifrit and Shiva. "All right then, let's see if those shadows can protect you from _this!_"

Leaping forward, straight into the air, Ryden dove towards the council member with a mighty battle cry, slamming Ifrit straight down. Melchiah made a slight movement as though to dodge the blow, Ifrit passing him by harmlessly with several inches to spare, but Ryden didn't seem in the least disappointed.

"Volcano!" The crusader yelled, plunging Ifrit straight into the ground at Melchiah's feet. Magma and flames exploded outwards from where the fiery gauntlets had struck the floor, washing over the Voidwalker and crashing against his shadow armor whilst seemingly not even affecting Ryden in the slightest. The eruption threw Melchiah into the air, sending the Voidwalker tumbling, but he effortlessly recovered his balance in mid-fall, landing gracefully on his feet.

"You seem to be full of surprises, crusader. I'll admit I didn't see that one coming." Melchiah commented off-handedly as he casually dusted himself off, the explosion seeming to have only scratched the proverbial paint of his armor. "Now it's my turn."

Before Ryden could react, Melchiah reared both arms behind him, and an array of floating, spinning shadow daggers materialized themselves behind him, all poised menacingly at the crusader, ready to impale him at a moment's notice. With an evil sneer, Melchiah thrust both his arms forth with a shout of "Astral Storm!"

The crusader barely had time to roll out of the way before the first of the blades streaked towards him, whistling past his ear with nerve-wracking closeness. Flipping back onto his feet, Ryden leapt backwards onto the wall behind him, dodging the next volley of spinning daggers as they embedded themselves into the spot he had just vacated.

The Voidwalker was relentless in his assault, and Ryden was hard pressed to dodge all of the flying blades, having to resort to kick-jumping off the walls of the room and rolling several times to avoid being riddled with stab wounds. Melchiah did a flourishing motion with both his arms, and suddenly every single blade still existent in the room positioned itself around Ryden, poised to impale him. Caught in a veritable sphere of them, Ryden had no choice but to think fast and just throw any random arte that he could think of at the sphere.

A lucky decision, for the first move that came to his mind was an Air Trick, which he immediately implemented. The mana particles in his body activated themselves, interacting with his nervous system and boosting its speed a hundredfold for a short burst, allowing him to move so fast that it seemed as though he was teleporting. The crusader vanished from within the sphere, and reappeared several feet outside of it, right above the Voidwalker. Ryden raised Alastor above his head and was about to deliver a killer Helm Breaker attack when he noticed something potentially fatal.

Melchiah had positioned an entire array of the blades right above himself, ready to dive straight at Ryden if the crusader managed to escape from the sphere. Reacting at the last moment, Ryden channeled a portion of his mana into his feet, creating a short-lived magical platform in mid-air that he used to kick-jump away from Melchiah, propelling himself horizontally straight to the side in his equivalent of a hermit's Flash Jump.

The blades began to streak towards him like miniature missiles just as Ryden kicked off his platform. The crusader was traveling so fast, transforming into a blur, that a majority of the shadow blades missed. However, as his mid-air dash ended, Ryden's horizontal motion halted completely, leaving him vulnerable to the last dagger, which speared him through the side and knocked him sprawling on the ground.

Snarling, Ryden scrambled to his feet and ripped the shadow blade out of his side, blood exploding out of the wound momentarily as he pulled the weapon out before his regeneration sealed the wound, preventing further loss of blood. He tossed the blade back at Melchiah, but the dagger dissolved into nothingness before it was even halfway towards the Voidwalker.

"Well, well, aren't you the persistent one? You're fast, I'll give you that. You're the only person to ever dodge my Astral Storm. So tell me – did the Wise Men really give you this power? Or are you drawing it from the same divine source as Kain and the rest of us do?" Melchiah asked.

"If you're thinking that I can do all those fancy-schamncy moves cos I'm hacking like you guys, you're sorely mistaken." Ryden shot back before he lunged forward with a Stinger stab, narrowly missing the Voidwalker as Melchiah subtly shifted himself to the side to dodge the blow.

"This power is one-hundred percent pure, true blue authenticity; the kind of power that's gonna _kick your ass!_" Sheathing Alastor over his back, Ryden summoned Ifrit and Shiva and proceeded to unleash his Kick 13 attack – a lightning-fast 13-kick combo that repeatedly crashed against Melchiah's armor as the Voidwalker failed to dodge the blows for once. Finishing off with a whirling double kick that sent him and his target rising into the air, Ryden dismissed his gauntlets and called Alastor to him, the greatsword reappearing in his grip in a burst of electricity. Before Melchiah could recover, Ryden unleashed a flurry of sword slashes in mid-air in an Aerial Rave attack, eliciting several grunts of pain from the Voidwalker as the blows seemed to finally penetrate his shadow armor. His final slash sending Melchiah tumbling away from him, Ryden spun himself around in mid-air once with a flourish and holstered Alastor over his back, spinning out Ebony & Ivory and reloading them with fresh shuriken canisters in a flash before leveling them at the still-falling Voidwalker.

Repeating his tactic from earlier, Ryden shouted "Honeycomb Fire!" and proceeded to juggle the airborne council member with several dozen shots, keeping him aloft. His canisters running dry after several seconds of sustained fire, Ryden holstered his claws again and brought out Alastor, waiting and watching as Melchiah finally crashed to the ground, his shadow armor smoking and cracked.

Somehow the Voidwalker still managed to land on his feet, halting his fall with a graceful back-spin as he kept one hand on the ground to balance himself while thrusting out his other one behind him. Melchiah seemed dazed and winded, but he quickly straightened and shook his head, reassuming his unflappable posture. The smoking holes and cracks in his armor slowly disappeared with loud hisses, and the bent remains of the shurikens that Ryden had fired at him clattered to the ground one by one as the shadow armor expunged them.

"Well, I have to admit I didn't see that one coming either." Melchiah grudgingly acknowledged. "I would even go so far as to say that I underestimated your abilities. But you're centuries away from equaling our power, crusader. You will never defeat us."

_Why the hell won't you just freaking _die! Ryden thought furiously to himself as he cocked Alastor behind him in a charging posture, blade angled slightly lowered to the floor. "Oh yeah? Then try _this! _Round Trip!" Tossing his Deathbringer like a boomerang, Ryden sent Alastor hurtling towards Melchiah like a spinning fan of blades. The Voidwalker effortlessly bent backwards to dodge the spinning greatsword, but that wasn't what Ryden had been aiming for.

Lunging forward at the same time that he had tossed his weapon, fire blazed around his hands as he summoned Ifrit once more. "Beast Uppercut!"

Just as Melchiah was straightening himself back up, Ryden dashed in front of him, a miniature inferno blazing around his right fist, and the crusader unleashed a massive flaming uppercut that caught the Voidwalker straight in the stomach. Shockingly enough, the blow failed to launch Melchiah into the air, and the council member seemed only lightly fazed by the attack.

"You'll have to do better than that. Force and brute strength cannot beat me alone." Melchiah remarked before he spread his arms out, crimson energy claws lancing out from his fingertips. Before Ryden could retreat or even move to dodge, Melchiah plunged his claws forth, catching Ryden in his midsection. Blood exploded out of the crusader's mouth as the claws ran him through, but he held his ground.

"If you think impalement's gonna take me down, you're wrong, Melchiah." Even as blood flowed out of the corner of his mouth, Ryden still gave a cocky grin and grabbed both of Melchiah's wrists before yanking them aside. The energy claws shattered like glass as their links to their caster were broken, and both combatants stumbled away from one another as Melchiah quickly broke Ryden's grip on his wrists with a quick headbutt.

With a mere flick of his arms, Melchiah resummoned his claws, and charged forth, swinging them at Ryden. The crusader, still attempting to recover from the impalement, could do little to dodge the swipes as he suffered several slash wounds, Melchiah's final blow being a savage uppercut that sent Ryden flying backwards.

Crashing onto his back, Ryden quickly flipped back onto his feet as the mana particles within his body quickly worked their magic on his wounds, regenerating them and closing them off to prevent blood loss. But he had been wounded several times in this fight already, and his regeneration always cost him mana. He could already feel mana exhaustion beginning to take its toll on his body – every move he made seemed as though he was attempting to move underwater. It would be a near miracle for him to survive this stalemate for another five minutes.

Melchiah surged forth again with his claws reared back to strike, and Ryden quickly brought up Alastor to defend, blocking and parrying the swipes and slashes with increasing sluggishness. Deflecting aside another strike, Ryden quickly sidestepped the follow-up before retaliating with a Stinger, Melchiah easily turning aside Alastor's massive electrified blade at the last second.

Jumping backwards to dodge the Voidwalker's next swipe at his stomach in an attempt to gut him, Ryden landed unsteadily on his feet and wondered how much longer this stalemate would last. Melchiah's shadow-armor was too strong for him to penetrate, but he was also holding his own reasonably well against the Voidwalker's assaults. If he could just survive long enough for his mana reserves to regenerate, he just might stand a chance at defeating the council member. If his squadmates decided to come and help him, all the better, but it seemed like he was on his own for now…

Jerked back to reality as Melchiah attacked once more, Ryden quickly rolled to the side as the Voidwalker thrust his claws at where the crusader's chest used to be, and promptly retaliated by lunging forward with a Straight counterattack, plunging Ifrit right at Melchiah's jaw in a, well, straight-up punch. The lightning-fast blow didn't give the Voidwalker enough time to dodge, and the flaming gauntlet crashed into his face, knocking him sprawling on the ground and away from the crusader.

Melchiah immediately flipped back onto his feet the moment he hit the ground, and straightened himself immaculately, cracking his neck and not seeming fazed the slightest bit by the punch to his face. Ryden snarled in frustration and was about to charge again when he noticed that Melchiah was pointing his claws straight at him but was not attacking.

The crusader had only a moment's notice before the crimson energy claws ejected themselves from Melchiah's fingertips and streaked straight towards him. Surprise delayed his reaction by a split-second, and that was all it took for them to impale him through his stomach, their velocity so great that they actually carried him all the way to the wall on the other side of the room, where they pinned him.

Blood surging up his throat and spilling out his mouth, Ryden desperately pulled at the claws in an attempt to extract them, ignoring the excruciating pain in his gut as well as the intense burning sensation that assaulted his fingers as he touched the claws. However despite his best efforts, even with his strength amplified by Ifrit, the claws refused to budge, and as he struggled helplessly, Melchiah slowly strode towards him, summoning another set of claws on his right hand.

"You're starting to become a nuisance, son of Dracon." The Voidwalker commented coldly as he stepped up in front of the pinned crusader, slowly bringing up his claws until they were level with Ryden's neck. "If it were up to me I would kill you right here, right now. But Kain, His Holiness, deems that you could be useful to us. He has ordered that you be captured, alive if at all possible."

Before Ryden could muster the strength for an appropriately rude response, Melchiah reared his claws back, and plunged them straight into Ryden's gut, adding injury to injury. Throwing his head back and screaming in agony as the Voidwalker twisted the claws inside him, Ryden ceased his struggles, attempting to conserve his strength. His mana reserves were extremely low – if he could even hope to survive these wounds he had to leave some energy for his regeneration to work. However he still had the strength for one final gesture of defiance, and he raised his head slightly, blood still dripping from his lips.

"Never!" He muttered fervently, and violently spat a mouthful of blood in Melchiah's direction. The Voidwalker recoiled slightly in disgust, and with a sneer, Melchiah forcefully extracted all his claws from Ryden's body, eliciting another gasp of pain from the downed warrior as he collapsed to the floor, unable to keep on his feet. "However it seems that it will be only remotely possible that you can be delivered to him alive. Regardless, His Holiness shall have what he wants."

Lying facedown on the floor, still bleeding from the open wounds in his stomach, Ryden contemplated the possibility that he had bitten off more than he could chew. Mana exhaustion dulled his abilities to nearly useless levels, and now his regeneration was hardly working. Pain assaulted him from nearly all directions, with a red-hot blade of agony still lodged in his midsection. His hearing beginning to leave him, he only barely heard the crash of a door being kicked open and Melchiah's shout of surprise before he felt himself being turned around, his head lowered onto someone's lap.

The welcome sight of Roxi's concerned face entered his blurring field of vision, and the fire mage quickly turned away to face someone else out of his line of sight and shouted, "He's alive, but badly injured!"

A second later, Zeraion's worried visage appeared next to Roxi's, and the ranger's expression quickly changed to that of relief. "I've seen him endure worse before. Quick – get him an Elixir."

Ryden saw Roxi reaching down towards her combat belt, and then he felt the unique salty-sour taste of an elixir as it was poured down his throat. Gratefully accepting the replenishing draft, Ryden soon felt his entire body being reenergized. His mana reserves partially replenished and his wounds half-healed, Ryden quickly shook his head to clear it as his regeneration did the rest. Roxi and Zeraion quickly stepped back as Ryden got back onto his feet, and the crusader quickly looked around to see what he had missed.

The very first thing that came to his attention was the way Melchiah was getting his ass handed to him. The four commandoes of Delta Squad had surrounded the Voidwalker, along with Ascion, Ark and Tora, and were unleashing hell upon the Necropolis council member. Traphes was laughing maniacally while going to town on Melchiah's shadow armor with a barrage of crossbow bolts from his Lancer, blasting away at full-auto with a glint of bloodlust in his eyes. Dark-powered wind blades emerged from the ground with every shot that the ranger unleashed in an Oblivion Gale attack, streaking straight towards Melchiah and leaving several deep gouges in his armor. The Voidwalker staggered backwards under such relentless bombardment, leaving him open to Tales' next attack, where the sniper rushed forward with his blizzard katana and slashed Melchiah straight up into the air.

"Icicle Cannon!" The sniper yelled, tossing his ice katana right at the Voidwalker, aiming to impale him. As the katana shot towards the airborne council member, it shattered half of itself in mid-flight, transforming into a storm of ice shards and blasting Melchiah with its full power. The combined assault was more than enough to send the Voidwalker flying, and the remaining half of the ice katana impaled him through the stomach, pinning him to the wall much like he had done to Ryden only moments earlier.

Tora, Ark and Ascion made full use of the opportunity, and the Chief Bandit quickly and smoothly drew three daggers, all modified and balanced for throwing, from each of his thigh holsters. With a brief incantation of _Miembro Fantasma_, he channeled the necessary mana into the knives, and in a small flash of light the six daggers he had in hand multiplied into eighteen, each knife replicating itself thrice. In a flurry of throwing motions, the Chief Bandit tossed the daggers at the pinned Voidwalker, eighteen throwing knives impaling Melchiah through his arms, legs and chest and pinning him even further to the wall.

Simultaneously Ark had been charging up power in the Twin Reavers, and the moment Tora was done with his attack, the axe-crusader unleashed his own.

"Over-drive!" Having taken one of Ryden's techniques and modified it to suit his dual-sword fighting style, Ark reversed his grip on both his weapons and slashed forward along the ground with the Blood Reaver at breakneck speed, the battle axe's massive blades creating a shockwave that traveled forward like a cruise missile. Before the first shockwave had even hit, Ark slashed forward again, this time with the Soul Reaver, creating a smaller but faster shockwave that streaked forward, quickly catching up with the first. And as though those were still not enough, Ark righted his grips on both Reavers and slashed downwards with both of them simultaneously, creating an X-shaped wave of power that was even more massive than the first and even swifter than the second.

The end result was that the three shockwaves slammed against the Voidwalker simultaneously, rending an immense slash mark on his armor and visibly fazing him. Blood exploded out of Melchiah's mouth as his shadow armor was finally penetrated, and the aftermath of the attack left him dazed and confused.

Ascion did not waste this chance, and unleashed what he thought would be the final blow. "Southern Cross!"

Slashing an cross shape in the air in front of him with his staff, Ascion waved the Divine Fist with a flourish and two waves of golden-yellow energy coalesced in front of him in a cross-shape. Another wave sent the cross streaking straight towards Melchiah, but the Voidwalker emitted a brief snarl and before Ascion's attack would even hit him, the shadow armor transformed into a cloak that wrapped itself around the Voidwalker, causing him to disappear a moment later, briefly leaving Tales' ice katana and Tora's throwing knives still stuck in the wall where it had impaled Melchiah before they were vaporized.

The Voidwalker suddenly reappeared behind Traphes in a flash of darkness, his wounds seemingly disappeared mysteriously, and before any of them could react, Melchiah backhanded the ranger with his energy claws, sending him flying straight into the wall. The commandoes of Delta Squad and the Dead Six did not let this offense go unanswered, and immediately responded with a barrage of arrows and magical attacks. Melchiah merely swept his shadow cloak around him, and he disappeared from sight, causing all of their attacks to miss completely. The Voidwalker reappeared on the other side of the room, his cloak reverting back into its armor form, and Natalia and Delinia immediately unleashed their Skyscorcher and Meteor Lancer attacks respectively, the former sending forth a lightning bolt at unimaginable velocity while the latter unleashed a single white beam of heated light aimed to pierce the council member. With the Torque Bow ammunition that they were using, their attacks' natural deadliness were amplified tenfold, and nothing that they had encountered so far had been able to withstand the two attacks combined.

Unfortunately, they hadn't encountered the likes of Melchiah before. The Voidwalker merely raised both hands in front of him in a blocking posture, and though Natalia's Skyscorcher bolt was a veritable mini-whirlwind of power, ripping up the floor tiles and dirt as it shot towards Melchiah, it passed right through the council member without the slightest indication that it had hit the Voidwalker at all. Delinia's attack had a similar effect, piercing Melchiah's shadow armor before detonating itself immediately in a tremendous explosion, only to reveal a lightly fazed Voidwalker as the smoke cleared, his armor bearing only several minor scorch marks and a small but noticeable dent that was quickly repaired.

Natalia's jaw dropped open while Delinia lowered her bow in shock, and Melchiah made good use of their hesitation to teleport behind them, spearing both the commandoes through the back with his claws and tossing them aside like rag dolls. Igzarion, having recovered from the blow he had received earlier, witnessed Melchiah's attack on Natalia and immediately went berserk. With a savage roar, he summoned two Sanguine Stilettos without considering how taxing it would be on his mana reserves, and recklessly charged the Voidwalker with the two shadow daggers. Melchiah merely gave the incoming Ranger a sidelong glance, then proceeded to effortlessly give all of Traphes' attacks the slip, even as the Ranger unleashed a hellish barrage of stabs, slashes and cuts in an _Attaque Devolver _attack.

With the Voidwalker dodging all of Igzarion's strikes, Tales realized the need to step in to help, and quickly did so with his blizzard sword in hand. But even with two assailants attacking him simultaneously, Melchiah did not even seem to tire from the fight. His stamina seemed limitless, and no matter what manner of grievous injury they inflicted upon him, it would instantly be healed by his shadow armor. Tales managed to land a lucky strike, stabbing the Voidwalker from behind through the shoulder as Melchiah dodged another one of Igzarion's slashes, but the council member merely wrenched himself away from the frozen blade, and the hole in his shadow armor almost instantaneously disappeared, the wound in his shoulder doing the same.

Before either of the two could respond, Melchiah suddenly spun himself around in place with his arms outstretched, and his shadow armor abruptly billowed out into a giant cloak, one with razor sharp, glinting edges. The shadowy cloak spinning around the Voidwalker like a saw blade, Igzarion and Tales were sent flying backwards as the razor edges of the cloak sliced across their armor numerous times in the space of a single second and left several deep cuts in their bodies.

Cursing at the quick neutralization of Delta Squad's members, the remaining members of the Dead Six charged. Ascion was the first to surge forward, his staff flaring a brilliant white that expunged all trace of darkness in the room. Melchiah's shadow armor finally seemed to be affected by this, the seemingly sentient suit of armor shrieking in agony and partially shedding itself as the light burned it away. The Voidwalker himself also seemed affected by the light, staggering backwards as his armor tore itself apart.

"You obviously do not realize the power I hold." Melchiah snarled as he quickly straightened and dodged two slashes from Ark, the axe-crusader sailing harmlessly past him as he sidestepped the blows, countering with a backhand to the head that sent Ark straight into the floor behind him. "All it takes is for the lights to be extinguished for a split second, and darkness rushes in to fill the void!"

Tora rushed forward with the Night Raven in hand, yelling "_Baile Soleares!", _but the Voidwalker struck him aside with a backhanded swing of his energy claws before the Chief Bandit could even begin his attack. Distracted by the sight of Tora hurtling towards the wall, Ascion did not notice that Melchiah had formed a tentacle-like appendage from the right arm of his shadow armor until it was too late, and the appendage shot forth, enveloping Ascion's staff and drowning it in darkness, blocking off the light it was generating. With a yell of surprise, Ascion sought to tug his staff away, but the tentacle was too strong for him. Refusing to relinquish his grip on his weapon, the priest was sent flying along with it as Melchiah flung his target all the way to the other side of the room, the shadows of the room returning and restoring Melchiah's armor to its full power.

"Hey, you seem to be forgetting someone." A familiar voice called out to the Voidwalker just as he was dusting his hands off. Melchiah spun around, not believing what he had just heard, and he was rewarded with a blade through the ribs. Ryden's Stinger attack blasted the Voidwalker backwards as Alastor skewered the Voidwalker through his chest, but Melchiah quickly regained his composure and landed steadily on his feet, the wound in his chest disappearing. But Ryden did not give Melchiah a chance to recover, and pressed the attack, flanked by Roxi and Zeraion. At the same time, Ark got to his feet from behind Melchiah, and charged at the Voidwalker, brandishing both Reavers.

The four commandoes converged upon the Voidwalker at once, Reavers and Deathbringer brimming with charged up power, balls of flame enveloping fists and electrified arrows being nocked into its bow. Roxi unleashed her attack first, hurling the two fireballs she had in hand at Melchiah like twin javelin missiles. The Voidwalker easily avoided the two projectiles, but it left him open to attack. Ark caught Melchiah in mid-dodge, and assaulted the Voidwalker with several lightning-fast slashes, finishing off with an uppercut slash that launched Mechiah into the air. Zeraion quickly followed it up with a Dragon Pulse, the electrified arrow ripping through the air and spearing the Voidwalker through the chest. Before he could even begin to fall however, Ryden was already there to deal the finishing combo. Driving himself straight up at the airborne council member, Ryden impaled Alastor through Melchiah's chest the instant right after Zeraion's Dragon Pulse hit him. And as though that wasn't enough, he flung the impaled council member down onto the floor directly below him, following it up by hurtling himself downwards right at Melchiah.

Simultaneously, Zeraion channeled as much mana as he could into the Abyssal Arund, focusing it into a single shot that he struggled to harness and control. Ark and Roxi did the same, channeling all of their available mana into their weapons in preparation for the _coup de grace. _As Ryden angled his blade downwards straight at the prone Voidwalker and shouted "Double-down!", Alastor driving him downwards in a pillar of electricity, the other three commandoes unleashed their own attacks.

"Crawler!" Ark plunged both of his reavers down into the floor, and lightning and flames erupted outwards, entwining around each other and snaking towards the prone Voidwalker as Ryden hurtled downwards.

"Infernal Stigma!" Roxi unleashed her own finisher, combining two fireballs into a huge flaming javelin that she hurled at Melchiah, streaking towards him at the same speed as Ark's shockwave.

Zeraion also released his own attack, his attack's energy coalescing into a single bolt of lightning that tore through the air with a roar greater than a dragon's. But even in the aftermath of his enhanced Dragon Pulse, he still gathered the leftover mana of his arte and harnessed it into the Abyssal Arund once more, channeling it into a follow-up that he hadn't used for an age.

"_Final Attack!"_

The three finishers all streaked towards the Voidwalker, Ryden still hurtling downwards, but before any of them could even come close to hitting, Melchiah gave a mighty roar of his own, and the shadows of the room all focused themselves in front of him, briefly condensing into a shield before exploding outwards, repelling all of the incoming attacks. The shadow wave blasted outwards, knocking the Dead Six members into the air and sending them careening into the walls. Ryden was the only one who wasn't launched into the wall, quickly righting himself in mid-air and landing on his feet.

It was not without a price though, for Alastor had been torn from his grip, embedding itself in the ground next to a fallen Zeraion, where it promptly reverted back into it's katana state. Cursing, Ryden quickly straightened and dropped into a defensive posture, Ifrit and Shiva flaring to life on his hands and feet. Melchiah had quickly recovered from the previous assault, and now hovered several inches above the floor, his shadow armor having transformed completely into a cloak that enveloped all but his head, shielding his entire body from harm.

"Now are annoying me, GDI scum." Melchiah growled, his cloak billowing out behind him as though preparing for an attack. "I will give you one chance to retreat, but stay, and know that I will strike you down, and slay you like the swine that you are."

"Here's my answer: _Go to hell!_" Ryden spat back in response, crouching down and setting both his hands behind him in a charging posture, forming a ball in the space between his hands. Ifrit and Shiva disappeared, but the crusader took no notice of this, for he was too focused on the task at hand. If Melchiah was given the time to gather power for his own attack, he would unleash a be-all, end-all arte that would spell certain doom for everyone in the room. Ryden could not allow that to happen, so he poured every iota of power and strength he could muster into the arte he was channeling now.

"Ka…" A sphere of golden-yellow light formed in the space between his hands, the mana he was channeling beginning to coalesce into its form.

"Meh…" The sphere expanded, increasing exponentially in size while its brightness did the same until it was almost too glaring to look at directly. The light actually burned away part of Melchiah's cloak, but the Voidwalker ignored this with a snarl and continued to charge up his own attack, forming a ball of his own with his hands in front of himself and shielding himself in a shield of darkness, the shadow ward blocking off the light that Ryden's sphere was generating. Red glowing blades began to appear around Ryden, surrounding him one by one much like Melchiah's Astral storm had done, and the Voidwalker continued to murmur incantations from within his shadow ward, causing more blades to appear.

"Ha…" Though it seemed impossible, the sphere expanded in size even more, whole beams of golden light shining outwards as an indication of its sheer power. To the crusader, harnessing and controlling the power he wielded right now was like trying to suppress a volcano with a bottle cap, but Ryden continued to persevere, and fought to keep the harnessed mana under control. If he failed here, none of them would survive.

"Meh…" Melchiah's mouth twisted upwards in an evil grin, and let down his shadow ward, raising his fists above him.

"You've had this a long time coming, crusader. Now _die!_"

The Voidwalker began to clench his fists, the signal for the blades the pierce through the son of Dracon and riddle him with holes, but he never got the chance to give it.

_"HAAAAAAAAAA!"_

All at once, Ryden thrust his hands forward and unleashed the power he had labored to harness, sending a beam of pure mana and power straight at the Voidwalker. The beam struck the council member full on, and without his shadow wards to protect him, Melchiah was all the more vulnerable to injury. The beam ripped away his cloak of darkness almost instantly, disintegrating it within the blink of an eye. The Voidwalker's cry of shock, outrage and agony echoed throughout the building as Ryden continued to pour every particle of mana, every iota of power and strength, every fiber of his being into his attack. The beam continued to assail Melchiah, searing him with its divine power and burning his defenses away.

By the time Ryden had exhausted all of his mana, and the beam died away, Melchiah was only a shadow of his former glory, the senior council member kneeling on all fours, badly singed with parts of his attire either charred or burned away. His cloak still smoldering, with blood dripping from his mouth, Melchiah unsteadily raised his head to face Ryden, who was not standing very steadily himself. The son of Dracon had collapsed onto one knee, swaying unsteadily and supporting himself with one arm as exhaustion took its toll on his body once more.

The Voidwalker chuckled before spitting out a mouthful of blood, and muttered, "You got lucky this time, crusader. You nearly killed yourself to do that, and if you hadn't wounded me so badly I'd finish you off myself."

Before Ryden could reply, darkness enveloped the Voidwalker once more, and he disappeared from sight. This time he didn't reappear anywhere else in the room, and the crusader let out a long sigh of relief. At long last, the fight was over. Sweat flowed down his body in rivulets, dripping off his chin and plastering his long raven bangs to his forehead. Completely and totally out of breath, his chest heaved in and out as he gulped in huge lungfuls of air. His vision blurring, his hearing left him and his arm gave out from beneath him. Before he could collapse to the floor however, a pair of strong arms caught him from behind his shoulders, and slowly lowered him to the floor. Roxi's and Zeraion's faces appeared in his sight, and he noticed the shock and awe on their expressions.

"I'm not even going to ask how you did that, Ryden." Roxi said. Ryden gave her an exhausted grin, and raised his hand to give a thumbs up to signal that he was all right.

"Just one question." Zeraion asked, a perplexed look on his face.

"What?" Ryden breathed out exhaustedly, still attempting to catch his breath and not in the mood to answer questions.

"What kind of name is 'Kamehameha' supposed to be?"

* * *

The GDI assault force that was due to arrive after the neutralization of New Hope's leadership turned up on time, charging through the gates of the base and slaying all the Necropolis troops that emerged to defend their territory. Casualties were minimal, and the enemy base was overrun surprisingly easily. The airships that were waiting in the Ellinian docks were quickly secured by GDI engineering teams, the tech-savvy assassins and bandits locking down the ships' anchors and preventing them from leaving the port.

The security teams that had been brought in after the assault force had pulled out quickly cut down any Necropolis resistance that was discovered during the occupation of the base. A medevac had promptly arrived to bring out the wounded members of Delta Squad, as well as the Dead Six members who had been injured. Ryden, having been deemed by the medics as still fit for duty albeit given a few days of leave to rest, promptly returned to Kerning City where the rest of his squad reported to the _Philadelphia_ for a debriefing.

Lazily pushing open the recently replaced doors to his office, Ryden stepped back into the _Dragon's Redgrave, _noting the fresh box of pizza that was waiting at the doorstep. Without breaking stride, he slid his foot under the pizza box and flipped it up into the air, catching it effortlessly as he slid through the doorway and bringing it inside just as the door closed.

Turning around the face the inside of his office, he tossed the pizza box onto his desk as he neared it, and lazily flopped down onto his chair, bringing up both legs to rest on the table. Grabbing a slice of pizza and stuffing it in his mouth, he chewed slowly for a moment before he remembered something important.

Thumping his desk with one of his legs, the side drawer slid open, and he reached inside, pulling out the note he had received from the man in the bar the day before.

"A message, huh?" The crusader muttered to himself as he opened up the folded piece of paper the man had given him. "Haven't heard from her in ages. Sometimes I wonder why I'm still attached to her in the first place."

Casually flipping the paper open, Ryden quickly scrolled his eyes over the words written on the letter, registering what Astella had inscribed on the message. His reading pace was lazy and his posture relaxed as he started, but his eyes started to widen and his back straighten in shock as he began to reach the last part of the message.

By the time he was finished his back was as straight as a board, and his eyes were wide as dinner plates. The crusader flung the paper away from himself in a rage, cursing "Son of a bitch!" Shooting off his chair and rushing to the pedestal at the side of his office where the Force Edge rested, he grabbed his father's sword and hurriedly sheathed it across his back, rushing out of his office and barging out through the double doors, leaving the letter to float slowly to the floor.

The last part of the message read, _"If you want her life to be spared, bring the Force Edge to the Cursed Shrine tomorrow night at midnight. Come alone."_

The clock displayed _"11.45 p.m."_

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger! Yes, I know I'm evil. I hope you guys find this delay shorter than the last one, and Kal, if you don't mind, hurry it up with Revolt! I wanna see some action here! X Production for the next chapter will start within the next week or so, because what's coming next is one of the parts that I've always wanted to write. Dunno how long the chapter is actually gonna take to produce, but you readers can ancticipate it to take about as long as this one, because my schedule is really gonna fill up and I won't have a lot of free time on my hands.

Chief out.

(A/N 2: Hope you're happy with the correction of that little loophole, Zaverius and other readers. Frankly I didn't realise it until you pointed it out. Thanks a bunch!)


	20. Sunset Horizons: Trailer of LC 2

_Sunset Horizons_

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_(2 years post-LC)_

* * *

Author's Note: Ok let's see here. For starters, my sincerest apologies on not getting the next chapter out but I'm suffering from not only a severe lack of time, but also a massive slab of writer's block. I'm stuck at six thousand plus words. And I also feel damn bad because the Lone Crusader hasn't at all updated in the past few months, so as compensation I'm posting a teaser trailer for the sequel I have planned. If I fail to get the next chapter out within a month, I'll post another trailer to whet your appetites. No offence to Kal Ancalas but what you see in the trailer will be _very_ related to what is happening in LC, unlike the Revolt trailer he posted. It might not be very apparent at first, but if you ponder over it enough (or if you've finished Kingdom Hearts 2 on Proud Mode or with one hundred per cent completion), the answers should become apparent enough.

Without further ado, I present to you _'Sunset Horizons'_.

* * *

The wind howled over the barren, blasted wasteland, ruffling the few leaves of what little plants could grow there. Shrubs dotted the dusty plains.

_The Deathbringers are said to hold phenomenal power…_

The body of a silver, gleaming bow shone like a beacon in the wasteland, at the peak of a mass of wreckage, which sat at the very centre of the desert.

_One legend said their wielders saved the world, while another says they wrought chaos and ruin upon it._

An armored gauntlet had its grasp firmly set onto the handgrip of the bow, slinging the weapon over the owner's shoulder.

A lone figure stood atop the wreckage, standing tall and straight.

_I must find out what this Deathbringer is._

_Weapons wielded only by chosen champions…_

The armored figure, clad from head to toe in steel, stands firmly atop the wreckage of his kill, with his bow slung across his shoulder, with a yellow cape adorning his shoulders. He looks out upon the wasteland through his mirrored visor, and tightens his grip on the bow in his hand.

Sensing somebody approaching, he shifts his gaze to his right.

Another two similarly armored individuals stride towards him, one with large, bulky armor, with a red cape and a massive axe draped across his back, and another, smaller knight with a feminine touch to the armor, wearing an orange cape and carrying a wand.

The first armored knight regards the new arrivals, and then turns his attention to his left, where two more individuals approach.

Like him, they are also clad in similar armor from head to toe, with mirrored visors. The closer, smaller of the two has a white cape adorning his own shoulders, holding on to a staff, while the other with a lither build and suit of armor, is wearing a grey cape, with a dagger clutched in his grip.

The first knight also regards these individuals for a moment, and then he looks forward, stepping off the wreckage and striding forward purposefully.

Seven weapons stand embedded in the sand in formation, as though a monument to a war long passed, and a truce long agreed. A single katana with an ornate hilt; a longbow with a sheen as black as night; a flame-bladed greatsword with a gigantic battleaxe; a white staff with a silver orb ordaining the tip; a wand with decorative flames wrapped around its body; a raven dagger with crimson runes adorning the blade.

The knights converge upon the weapons, taking each up as their own – the first knight discarding the bow in his hand in favor of the black bow that lies in front of him, as the wreckage behind him slowly disintegrates into nothingness. The other knights also take up the other weapons; the red-caped knight throws his axe to the ground before picking up the greatsword and the battleaxe; the orange-caped knight sets her own wand down and pulls the flaming wand out of the sand. The white-caped knight lets his staff fall to the ground, and firmly grasps the white staff before drawing it up. Finally, the grey-caped knight, in turn, stabs his weapon into the ground, before retrieving the black dagger from the sands.

As they look around them, it is seen that they stand in the middle of a crossroads, in the very midst of a graveyard of weapons. Countless weapons of all describable natures dot the wasteland around them, most prevalent amongst them being katanas, all embedded in the sands.

In front of the knights remains one last weapon that is unretrieved – the katana with the ornate hilt. The five knights look down upon the katana as though with sadness, recalling a friend long lost, when a distant boom is suddenly heard. Immediately, the knights snap their heads up to regard the new arrival.

In the distance, a shadowy, ominous figure is seen walking towards them, but a screen of sand prevents the knights from getting a clear view of him. As it slowly approaches, words begin to appear.

_Master of Deathbringer…_

_The Lost Two…_

_Memory of Kane…_

_Legendary Crusaders…_

_Tiberium War…_

_It all began with…_

_**Birth by sleep.**_

* * *

Well, there you have it. Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze out the next chapter some time soon, but given how slowly and how little the inspiration's been coming in, I somehow doubt that will happen. If it takes longer than a month, I'll post a follow up to this trailer. Cheerio.


	21. Et Tu, Brute?

Disclaimer: We don't own nothing, so there.

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A/N: Holy shit man. Seems I'm never able to keep up with deadlines. You guys can give up hope on the next chapter coming out sooner than a month later - you'll be extremely lucky if it does. However, that doesn't mean this fanfic is abandoned - it just means that it will update very slowly. Poly really keeps me busy. Either way, you guys know the drill - review once you're done. Thanks much. I wonder if Kal has been waiting for an update before proceeding on with Revolt... Haha!

By the way, if you guys see blatant Bleach or DBZ rip-offs, those are intentional. I've just started watching the animes recently, so it's quite the source of inspiration.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Et Tu, Brute?**

Ever since the Tiberium missiles launched by Kain had devastated Victoria Island, the Ant Tunnels had been sealed off to the general population. The entire tunnel network had been classified as a Red Zone, deemed unable to support any form of organic life, and any trip down into the tunnels would be considered a suicide run.

Ryden didn't intend to let that be a hindering factor. The very first thing he did was head to the nearest GDI armory, suiting up in one of the Zone Trooper powered armor suits and departing immediately for Sleepywood. Zone Trooper power armor was one of GDI's most advanced infantry armor suits, second only to the MJOLNIR and KATARN-class armor suits worn by commandoes. Zone Trooper suits were available only to specialist troopers who had to make the occasional but necessary trips into Yellow Zones, and even more rarely, Red Zones, to obtain Tiberium samples for GDI's research teams to analyze, and the suit was specially hardened to block and absorb the lethal radiation levels emitted by Tiberium crystals.

Ryden was going to need that protection – the suit catered mainly to distances involved in travels to Yellow Zones and the borders of Red Zones, but nobody had ever wandered as far as into the center of a Red Zone before. At the most it would provide an hour of protection before the suit itself would begin to be converted into Tiberium itself and Ryden would have to ditch it.

If an hour was what he had, it was an hour he would make do with. Whenever Ryden set his mind to something he carried through with it until the end. Lifting up the grate that covered the entrance to Kerning's Sewers, and hence, the Swamp of Despair, Ryden recoiled back at the scent of months of accumulated shit, piss and other bodily excrements. Wincing, he quickly lifted his helmet over his head and lowered it down onto his suit's neck seal, sealing the suit and preventing any more of the noxious smells of the sewers from reaching his nostrils.

_Geez… and I thought 'in the shit' was a figure of speech. _Ryden thought disgustedly to himself as he lowered himself through the manhole, dropping down into the sewer tunnels with a resounding _splash _that echoed throughout. Sewer water rippled around his feet, coupled with the disintegrating remains of toilet paper and faeces. The occasional Tiberium crystal stuck out of the tunnel walls every now and then, but Kerning's Sonic Emitter array, projecting outwards sonic waves tuned to a frequency that was found to be able to break down Tiberium, kept the crystal infestation more or less at bay, preventing the entire city from becoming infected.

Tapping into his Draconic Speed like never before, Ryden sped through the sewer tunnel network like a bullet, covering miles of distance within the mere span of five minutes. In a short while, the exit of the tunnel network came into sight, and Ryden swiftly vaulted through the portal, coming out of the other side into what used to be the Swamp of Despair.

Anybody who had visited the former home of the Jr. Neckis and the Ligators before the war would not have recognized it at all now. Tiberium crystals practically carpeted the ground, and the trees of the Swamp of Despair had been transformed into Tiberium-infected "Blossom Trees", humongous plants with numerous tumors growing all over the bark that periodically writhed and pulsed, spurting out a spray of Tiberium spores into the air that would seed new Tiberium fields. Monster corpses littered the ground,the most commonly seen being the carcasses of Jr. Neckis, with the rarer corpse of the Ligator dotting the field of crystallized bodies every now and then. Many of them had expressions of agonized fury, having died fighting an enemy that they would not see, hear or smell. As inhuman as the monsters were, Ryden could not help but feel some measure of pity for them, for they had perished without understanding what had killed them.

The crusader streaked through the devastated swamp in a silver blur, moving faster than he had ever before. Large silhouettes of gigantic, lumbering creatures with Tiberium crystals jutting out their sides and backs shot past his vision, as did smaller, more lithe silhouettes of canine-shaped beasts. Tiberium-based life forms, no doubt, but GDI scientists had neither the opportunities nor the interest to study and document those. Red Zones being as dangerous as they were, it was viewed as a general waste of resources and manpower.

It was only a matter of seconds before Ryden had sprinted across the entire stretch of the swamp, and he dashed through the stone arch that designated the entrance to the forest of Sleepywood. The second he set foot into the forest's territory, his dragon senses screamed out subliminal warnings at him, and the crusader immediately spun on his heel and raised the Force Edge in a blocking posture above his face. A large body collided against him, canine jaws locking against the blade of his father's sword, and he skidded backwards for several meters before he managed to dig his heels solidly into the soil beneath him, halting his skid.

Finally having a moment to compose himself, Ryden looked past the Force Edge's blade and noted that his assailant was one of the smaller, canine-shaped silhouettes he had seen earlier. One of the more common Tiberium-based life forms, and one of the few that GDI had actually documented and researched into, the creature that had its jaws locked around the Force Edge was known to GDI as the 'Tiberium Fiend'. Appearing to be a horrifically mutated Curse Eye, the lizard's reptilian body shape had been warped and twisted by Tiberium, transforming it into a lither, more muscular physique that resembled that of a Hector's, if said Hector had been on a mass overdose of steroids. The oversized reptile had also developed a second eye, granting it better 'hunter's vision' and generally allowing it to see better. Tiberium crystals stuck out its back, and those had been the doom of many GDI expeditionary forces that had wandered too deep into the Red Zones. The Tiberium Fiend was renowned for its ability to propel shards of the crystal from its back at phenomenal speeds, and anybody caught in the stream of shards was pretty much doomed to an agonized death by Tiberium poisoning, if the shards didn't kill them outright. The Tiberium Fiend also possessed prodigious strength and speed, able to take out an entire platoon of Zone Troopers by itself, but they still paled in comparison to Ryden's capabilities.

With a single shove, Ryden pushed the Fiend away from him, sending the mutant flying through the air. The canine reptile experienced a brief flight before making contact with the ground, but it did not suffer a bad landing, twisting around in mid-air before landing gracefully on all fours. Snarling, the creature roared at him briefly before arching its back towards him and sending several shards hurtling straight at the crusader.

In a flash, Ryden had the Force Edge sheathed, bringing out Ebony & Ivory and shooting every single shard heading for him out of the air. With inhuman precision, the Ilbis streaked through the air, knocking each and every shard out of its course and even shattering some of them.

"Any other day I'd be spoiling for a fight with you. But I'm in a rush now so I don't have time for this." Ryden growled as he holstered Ivory and began to channel mana into his right hand, a small globe of golden energy forming in the space above his palm. It wasn't as hard as it was to create the Kamehameha wave that he had used against Melchiah before, but it still took considerable effort to harness and control the mana. Still, he prevented the strain from showing on his face, and he faced his opponent with a ruthless expression that could have been carved from stone.

"You've got three seconds to get out of my way." The fiend roared in a defiant response, and it lunged at Ryden again without the slightest indication of intimidation.

"All right then. You asked for it!" Before the fiend was even halfway towards him, Ryden hurled the globe of energy at the monster and dove out of the way. The Tiberium Fiend was on a practical collision course with the energy projectile, and it could do nothing to dodge as it slammed straight into its side, exploding in a brief flash of fire and a cloud of smoke. The fiend was hurled backwards as Ryden quickly rolled back onto his feet, the bulky Zone Trooper armor posing little obstruction to his mobility.

The canine reptile crashed into the Tiberium-carpeted ground, breaking several of the crystals and sending shards of them flying, but it nimbly leapt back onto its feet, snarling threateningly at Ryden and sending more shards hurtling his way. Ryden contemptuously shot those out of the air with Ebony alone, and he promptly holstered his second claw, dropping into a crouch and placing his hands behind him in a charging posture.

He sure as hell didn't have time for petty conflicts like this. If the fiend was determined to block his way, then he would have to remove it as quickly as possible. Channeling the mana in the same way that he had used to defeat Melchiah, albeit at a much lower power level, Ryden quickly formed a ball of energy in his hands before thrusting it forward, shouting "Kamehameha!"

The beam, similar to but much thinner than the one that had nearly killed the Necropolis council member, shot forth from his palms, slamming straight into the fiend and sending it flying. Wailing in pain and outrage, the monster struggled spastically as it crashed into the ground once more, the wounds it had sustained being more than it could tolerate. Glowing green ichor bled out of the open wounds that Ryden's beam had caused. As the crusader watched, the fiend's body slowly dissolved into its base components, most of which was liquefied Tiberium, and the green ichor seeped into the ground as the monster's corpse slowly melted.

Without breaking stride, Ryden leapt over the rapidly disintegrating carcass, sprinting through the mutated forest of Sleepywood. Blossom trees surrounded him on all sides, with the occasional Tiberium fissure, saturated with incredibly high concentrations of the toxic crystal, breaking through the ground to form the center of a Tiberium field. Ryden took care to avoid those – entering a Tiberium field would only further cut down the remaining protection time that his Zone suit had.

Three minutes was all it took for him to reach the hollow stump that marked the entrance to the Ant Tunnels. The town itself of Sleepywood was unrecognizable; the large tree-sauna in what used to be the forest town had been twisted and transformed into a gigantic blossom tree ridden with countless Tiberium tumors that periodically contracted and relaxed, spurting out Tiberium spores in veritable clouds. Knowing that if he came into contact with the Tiberium spore clouds, his Zone suit would be instantly compromised, Ryden quickly dashed past the blossom tree, slipping through the hollow stump entrance and into the Ant Tunnels.

The dungeon area had fared little better than the forest town outside. Tiberium growths covered the walls, the ground and even the tunnel ceilings. With every step that Ryden took, he could nothing but green, green and more green. Speeding through the tunnels, the crusader ventured deeper and deeper into the dungeon, far deeper than anybody had ventured before ever since the entire tunnel network had been closed off. The common shade of emerald green of the Tiberium soon gave way to the rarer, more volatile blue crystals of a higher-grade of Tiberium as Ryden entered the area that had once been classified as 'The Tunnel that had Lost Light', home to the Cold Eyes. Tiberium fiends darted past his vision every now and then, some of them growing the blue Tiberium crystals out of their backs instead of the regular green crystals, but the crusader ignored those.

Sneaking a glance at his Zone suit's protection meter, Ryden noted that he had only forty-five minutes of protection left. Apparently he had ventured through a spore cloud or two, burning away the protective layers of the Zone suit more rapidly. Taking a look at his mission clock, the crusader then realized with chagrin that he had only three minutes left to get to the Cursed Shrine. He was moving too slowly.

Intensifying the mana flow through his legs, Ryden further increased the velocity at which he was sprinting, stepping up the effect of his Draconic speed. Moving so quickly that the Tiberium fiends he streaked past could not even attack him, the crusader sped through the remaining distance between him and the Cursed Shrine. Within two minutes he arrived at the huge double-doors that marked the entrance to the home of the Jr. Balrogs, panting heavily as he sought to catch his breath.

_This had better be worth the effort. _Ryden thought himself as he halted the mana flow through his legs and ceased tapping into his draconic speed. _Stella, I hope you're still alive in there._

Pushing open the doors to the shrine, Ryden's jaw dropped in amazement as he saw that the entire chamber was devoid of Tiberium infestation. How this was possible when the entire tunnel network outside was completely plagued by the crystal?

Stepping inside and letting the doors shut behind him, Ryden removed his Zone Suit's helmet and took in a breath of the shrine's stale underground air. Still, it beat the metallic quality of the recycled air that came out of his suit's air scrubbers. Taking off the rest of the protective suit, he stashed it away in a discreet corner near the entrance, knowing that he would need it to get out of there later.

Dashing further into the cursed shrine, he leapt off the ledge that led to its lower levels, rapidly landing at the bottom level with a loud _thud._ Before he could take a step however, the entire chamber turned a hellish red, and crimson runes appeared on the walls and ceilings all around him.

"Whoa." Ryden muttered to himself, surprised at this turn of events. He surely hadn't expected this when he came here. The crimson runes radiated infernal, unholy power at levels so high that they nearly staggered the crusader. Ryden had sensed this kind of power radiating from Balrogs before, but never in such high concentrations before. If there were any Balrogs in this chamber, they would have to be in numbers greater than any single man had faced before.

A prone figure surrounded by the same blood red runes on the far side of the chamber caught his sight, and his breath hitched in his throat a he recognized the white robes of a priestess.

The prone figure raised its head up, and the cold fist in Ryden's gut tightened as he saw Astella's face. It didn't help matters when the downed priestess raised a hand towards the crusader in a plea for help.

"Ryden, help me!" Astella cried out piteously.

_Damnit! _"Astella!" Ryden began to rush forward, but before he was even halfway there, a thin, translucent cerulean film materialized in the air between them. Ryden nearly collided straight into the film, the barrier proving to be as resilient as a meter-thick slab of adamantium, so Ryden quickly abandoned his subsequent attempts to break through.

_Well that's just great. What now? _Ryden thought exasperatedly to himself as he heard an ungodly roar of bloodlust from behind him, the runes on the walls around him intensifying their hellishly red glow as the entire chamber shook ominously. Turning around, the crusader visibly paled as he saw five Crimson Balrogs emerge from the dark corners of the chamber. Sure he could hold his own against a horde of Tauros, but a horde of those demons were nothing compared to the Crimson Balrogs. The archdemons that he faced now were the pinnacle of the infernal powers that Necropolis possessed within the ranks of monsters they controlled. A single Crimson Balrog was easily a match for FIVE GDI commandoes, and as skilled as Ryden was, easily being able to defeat his fellow elite soldiers in a three-to-one match, he doubted he could fight five Balrogs simultaneously without placing himself at significant risk.

A single glance to his rear, at the prone figure that lay on the ground behind him, was enough to steel his resolve. If five Balrogs were what he had to face, it would be five Balrogs that he would defeat. "Stella, stay back! I'll handle this."

The translucent film intensified until it was totally opaque, blocking off the priestess from his sight, but Ryden was thankful for that. At least he would be able to focus fully on the fight. Dropping into a ready stance and summoning Ifrit and Shiva, the crusader extended a hand towards the archdemons before him and beckoned for them to attack.

"Well, what are you idiots waiting for? Show me what you got!"

The lead Balrog snarled at the crusader's insolence, and promptly charged, brandishing its claws with black lightning crackling between its fingertips. Ryden immediately took to the air as the Balrog took a swipe at him, the crusader sailing harmlessly over the attack, dealing a crescent kick to the Balrog's cranium as he passed overhead.

The Balrog toppled forward, exposing its broad, furred back to Ryden, and presented with such an inviting target, the crusader couldn't help but pull out Spiral and load in a mythril bolt, aiming and pulling the trigger in a flash.

The bolt streaked forth, hammering into the archdemon's broad back, but the Balrog's girth was so massive that the arrow could not penetrate through fully, instead carrying the Balrog along with itself until it drilled into the wall at the opposite end of the chamber, pinning the archdemon there.

The remaining four Balrogs roared at this transgression, and two of them lunged forward, slashing wildly with their claws while the rest began to hurl fireballs composed of ebony flame at him. Still in mid-air, Ryden channeled mana into the air beneath his feet, solidifying it and allowing him to leap upwards again in mid-fall in an Air Hike maneuver. The crusader shot upwards through the air again, and the Balrogs' attacks cleanly missed, the fireballs impacting harmlessly against the far side of the chamber.

Ryden landed gracefully on his feet, dodging out of the way of the Balrogs' next few swipes as they attempted to seize him with their claws. Backflipping away from the archdemons, the crusader hefted his Deathbringer over his shoulder and smoothly sheathed it in his back holster, raising both his hands in front of him and performing a series of rapid arm movements before thrusting both of his hands forward with his palms facing the foremost Balrog, his thumbs and index fingers touching together to form a diamond shape.

_Zer thinks Kamehameha is a dumb name – well, let's see him try this one. _Ryden smirked cockily to himself before focusing mana into his hands. The power buildup for this particular arte was pretty much instantaneous – no brightly glowing ball of energy to give blatant indication that he was charging up for an attack. The Balrogs cocked their heads quizzically at his actions – they had never seen a warrior attempt a magician's type of arte before. They began to snicker gutturally at the crusader's supposedly futile attempts, but their laughter promptly ceased as Ryden suddenly shouted, "Burning Attack!"

A small, flaming sphere of golden energy abruptly materialized and shot forth from his interlocked hands, speeding straight towards the gathered archdemons like a bullet. The foremost Balrog, seeing the projectile headed straight toward it, snarled at the sudden assault and leapt upwards into the air, narrowly avoiding the sphere of mana. Enraged at this treachery, the distracted Balrog did not see its doom coming until it heard a savage cry from directly above. Disbelief delayed its reaction by a full second, and by the time it managed to look upward, the first thing that greeted it was Alastor's blade, an enraged crusader backing it up.

Ryden performed the slash so quickly that the Crimson Balrog didn't even have time register that it had been hit. A moment passed, and then the two severed halves of the Balrog separated itself in mid-air, the cut so fine that blood did not even flow from the wounds.

The next instant passed in a flash where Ryden proceeded to chop up the rest of the Balrog into bloody ribbons, ending up with demon sushi floating in front of him by the time he was done. As the rest of the archdemons watched in horror, Ryden raised a single hand in front of him, under his upraised sword arm, and released an indiscriminate spray of pure mana, vaporizing the torn up remains of the Crimson Balrog.

The crusader exhaled as he lowered his arm and twirled Alastor stylishly, smoothly sliding his Deathbringer into its sheathe over his shoulder. One down, four to go.

The crusader hadn't forgotten about the Balrog that he had pinned to the wall with that mythril bolt from Spiral. While he had been slicing and dicing up the first Balrog, the pinned archdemon had thrashed wildly around in a desperate attempt to free itself from the restraining bolt that had remained stubbornly embedded in its back. With a determined roar, it flexed its formidable muscles and braced its feet, slowly pulling itself out and dragging itself past the spike. Dark blood ran freely from the wound just below its heart, but such an injury was only a minor hindrance to a being of such constitution as a Balrog.

As shocked at the ease the crusader had neutralized one of their number as the Balrogs were, the wounded archdemon was the first one to charge at Ryden, eager for revenge. Still recovering from his Burning Slash attack, Ryden could do little to avoid to barrage of slashes from the Balrog's claws, infernal magic augmenting the damage dealt by the archdemon and leaving several flaming gouges in the crusader's armor. Having limited space for protective wear underneath the Zone Suit that he had worn here, Ryden could only take a small ballistic vest and some protective pads, and they did little to protect him from the savage slashes from the Balrog. The blows threw him backwards several feet, blood running freely from the slash wounds the archdemon had left on his skin.

The crusader's regeneration rapidly healed the injuries, but Ryden's stamina was going to drain to virtually nothing very quickly if he took many more hits like that. The moment the attacking Balrog raised its claws again to deliver another punishing blow, Ryden raised his forearms in a blocking position, preparing to guard against the attacks that were sure to come. The moment the archdemon's claws descended, Ryden subtly shifted his position, and parried aside the blow without the slightest indication that it had fazed him at all. The same went for the rest of the Balrog's strikes, harmlessly deflected aside by minute shifts in Ryden's positioning and stances. Magical, physical, or otherwise, nothing that the wounded Balrog threw at the crusader could touch him, courtesy of the Royal Blocks that Ryden had painstakingly practiced for years to perfect.

Infuriated beyond belief, the Balrog jumped backwards and reared both arms backwards, charging up a ball of infernal flames between its hands and holding it high above its head. With an unholy roar, it began to hurl the fireball forward, but before it could even leave the Balrog's hands, Ryden lunged forward, thrusting one of his hands in front of him.

"Royal Release!" Ryden shouted, releasing all the pent up energy and power that he had gathered and absorbed from the blocked attacks. The techniques involved absorbing the enemy's energy and reflecting it back at them, an integral part of the Royal Guard style of fighting that the crusader had developed, were extremely tricky and difficult to master, but Ryden hadn't spent the better part of three years slacking off in his office in Kerning. Learning the four combined skill books of Warriors, Bowmen, Magician and Thieves and molding them into his own fighting techniques, Ryden had developed his own styles for combat, four distinct styles that he switched between at will; Swordmaster, Gunslinger, Trickster and Royal Guard.

Right now the Royal Guard style, one that Ryden hardly bothered to use because of the sheer difficulty of utilizing it effectively, was definitely proving its worth. The single Royal Release was packing enough power to propel the crusader forward several feet, and it carried him straight through the wounded Balrog, the heavy blow tearing apart the wound in its chest and shattering every single one of its ribs. The fireball dying in its hands, the archdemon toppled over as Ryden streaked past it, and it landed on the ground with a heavy grunt of pain. Twitching spastically in its death throes, the Crimson Balrog could only feebly raise a hand in the crusader's direction; small sparks of black lightning flickering weakly between its claws before dying out. The archdemon's hand then collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Two down, three to go.

Ever since the discovery of the powers provided by his Saiyan lineage, Ryden had found that dealing with enemies had become several magnitudes easier._ This _fight was definitely easier than he had expected – he had thought it would take him minutes to take down the first Balrog, let alone neutralizing the second so soon after that, and without the Burning Attack technique he had improvised, he was sure it most certainly would have.

Enraged growls from behind snared his attention, and he turned his focus to the three remaining Balrogs that still stood defiantly against him. The trio of archdemons was eyeing him warily, and the hatred and rage was plainly visible in their eyes. If Ryden had been just any other GDI commando, he would have definitely feared for his life right then. But he wasn't just any other soldier; he was the champion of the Dead Six, GDI's mightiest warrior, and the son of the legendary crusader. An absolute refusal to be cowed was one of his trademark traits – _nothing_ could intimidate him or make him bow down.

Solidly planting one of his feet behind him, he dropped into a charging stance, placing both hands behind him and forming a ball of energy between them.

"You want me? Then here's a piece of my mind for you! _KAMEHAMEHA!"_

* * *

From beyond the veil, Turel observed the ongoing fight through the eyepiece of his scouter, Astella standing next to him and watching the battle with an expression that could have been carved from stone. When the warlock looked beneath the surface however, Turel could sense that the priestess was undergoing considerable inner turmoil – whatever remained of her old feelings for the crusader was interfering with the cold-blooded ruthlessness that she would need to complete this task. Turel raised an eyebrow in concern; if his accomplice was going to falter here, the entire scheme could be placed in jeopardy. Perhaps she would require a little persuasion later…

Returning his attention back to the fight, Turel glanced at the readings of his scouter, noting with astonishment the figures that were being displayed.

The scouter was an ingenious invention by Necropolis' Experimental Research Department; a semi-transparent colored monocle that covered his left eye, with its miniature CPU attached to his ear. Scouters were devices that calculated the power levels of individuals that they were targeted at, but the numbers were all relative – without a reference point, the numbers displayed by a scouter were meaningless.

Turel himself had a power level of over 18,000, a rather low power level for someone of his ranking. Astella, despite being much lower-ranked than him, held an impressive (for her ranking) power level of 4,000. However the Crimson Balrogs that he commanded here only had power levels of 1,000 each, and though they had the advantage of numbers, the son of Dracon was still defeating them without much difficulty.

Observing the crusader at first, Turel had been mildly surprised when the son of Dracon's base power level of 5,000 had suddenly spiked up to 8,000 and maintained its position there when the Balrogs attacked, rising upwards further in brief, sporadic surges before dropping back to the previous reading. The crusader's peculiar energy attacks seemed to be the main cause of these spikes, because the readings of Turel's scouter jumped drastically every time Ryden unleashed a stream of energy from his bare hands.

_Just how is he doing that?_ Turel wondered to himself as he watched Ryden slice the first Balrog to pieces in mid-air before vaporizing it with a spray of energy, causing another spike in his scouter's readings. _I have read records of an ancient race that was rumored to have been able to control mana with their bare hands, but they were said to have been extinct. Could he possibly be a descendant of that race?_

Turel's question was almost definitively answered as he watched the son of Dracon plant one of his feet behind him, charging up power for a very obviously powerful attack. A sphere of blue-white energy materialized in the space between his hands, and Turel almost got the shock of his life as Ryden's power level shot up to as high as 16,000 for an instant, before the crusader unleashed the beam and blew one of the Balrogs off its feet, sending it careening straight into the chamber wall and causing the crusader's power reading to drop back to its base level of 8,000.

As the battered body of the third Balrog toppled to the ground, Turel found himself for the first time doubting the solidity of his scheme. The son of Dracon had proven to be far stronger than he had anticipated – surely the boy couldn't possibly be of Saiyan bloodline? If he was, then a revision of his strategy was most certainly due.

Continuing his watch as a blazing blue-white aura burst to life around the crusader, once again causing the power readings to spike, Turel struggled to prevent his jaw from dropping as Ryden blasted forward at a blinding speed before slamming his fist into the gut of one of the Balrogs, nearly folding it in half and causing dark blood to explode out of the archdemon's mouth. As the winded Balrog struggled to recover, the crusader turned upon the uninjured one, releasing a lightning-fast barrage of punches and kicks, battering the Balrog left and right with his flaming gauntlets and frozen greaves before leaping upwards and summoning his Deathbringer, slashing downwards with all his might. The Balrog, stunned and badly injured as it was by the blows it had endured, barely managed to catch Alastor's blade in between its claws, stopping the blow cold just before it would have ended its life. Ryden grunted in frustration and began to pull the blade away, only to realize with chagrin as a meaty ham fist smashed into his side and sent him flying through the air, that he had given the other Balrog too much time to recover.

As though in payback for the deaths of their fellow Balrogs, the two surviving archdemons cast their claws forward and expelled black lightning towards the airborne crusader, halting his flight and coursing infernal magic through his body. Ryden stubbornly refused to cry out even though agony assaulted his sense from all directions, and as the Balrogs halted their spells and let the crusader finally crash to the ground with his body smoking, Ryden exhaled in relief as the torment finally stopped.

He lay there motionless for a full second before abruptly jumping back onto his feet, ripping off the smoking remains of his ballistic vest and revealing the numerous burns that the Balrogs' lightning had left on his body. As the Balrogs watched, the burns slowly disappeared, replaced by raw, recently healed flesh, and the crusader smirked cockily, extending a hand and beckoning for them to attack once more.

The Balrogs however, did not react as he expected – instead of snarling in infuriation and preparing to attack again, they merely snickered evilly and pointed behind him. Ryden experienced only a moment of confusion before it struck him – the third Balrog that he had blown away with a Kamehameha must have recovered.

He didn't even bother to turn around – his dragon sense was screaming warning signals at him to look out from behind, and he immediately backflipped high into the air, narrowly avoiding a killing slash from the Balrog's claws. Ebony flames were wrapped around the archdemon's talons, and they brushed against Ryden's back as he avoided touching the claws by a whisker. But instead of feeling heat, there was only a terrible, ice-cold chill, so bitterly cold that Ryden's back instantly went numb the moment they licked against his flesh. His muscles locking up involuntarily, Ryden was rendered vulnerable for an instant, and the Balrog behind him made good use of it. Three slashes shredded whatever little armor he had left, and a savage uppercut sent him flying straight into the chamber wall, where a sickening _crack_ form his back made Turel wince from behind the veil.

Ryden lay there limp for a full, agonizing second, and Turel began to furrow his eyebrows in puzzlement. He hadn't expected that to happen so quickly, or easily for that matter…

Then, in a flash, the son of Dracon was back on his feet, blasting forward with the blue-white aura flaring to life around him again. Turel's scouter registered yet another spike in the crusader's power level, and the warlock concluded that the surges in power must have been from the crusader manipulating incredible amounts of mana before discharging it in a single attack. Still, the amounts of mana required to actually _cause _an increase in power level were incredibly high – definitely beyond the power of a mere crusader such as himself.

As Turel watched Ryden lunge forward, with his Deathbringer surrounded by lightning and coupled with the same aura that raged around his body, he literally stepped back in shock as the charged blow decapitated the Balrog that had attacked the crusader from behind in a single strike. Before the archdemon's body could even begin toppling to the floor, Ryden leapt atop the corpse, planted both feet solidly on the Balrog's barrel-chested midsection, and kicked off with such strength that he sent himself flying straight towards the last two Balrogs that were still standing.

The two remaining archdemons snarled and prepared to defend themselves, but Ryden merely streaked between them without even showing any sign of attacking, passing through with only a flash of steel. Grunting in puzzlement, the duo turned to watch the crusader stand up from behind them, but the only thing they saw was Ryden reverting Alastor back to its katana form, slowly sliding it back into its sheath.

Growling, the Balrog on the left began to step forward, but Ryden firmly pushed his Deathbringer the rest of the way into its scabbard with a solid _schnick, _and before the Balrog's foot had even touched the ground, the archdemon fell apart into several bloody pieces.

As Turel watched Ryden began to advance upon the last Balrog, he turned to Astella next to him and gestured for her to step in. Again he began to delve beneath the surface, and even though the priestess betrayed no emotion on the outside, the warlock could see that the turmoil in her mind now was more pronounced than ever.

This was the moment that would either make or break them. If she succeeded in putting down the son of Dracon ruthlessly here, their success was assured, and he wouldn't have to worry about her getting cold feet anymore. But if she hesitated, not only would his entire scheme be put in danger, but also it would be considerably harder to obtain the amulet and the Force Edge again if he managed to escape here.

The warlock's mind was eased momentarily as Astella took a step forward, her eyes hardening, and Turel decided that a little persuasion was in order. Giving the priestess a slight mental nudge, assurance that all would go according to plan, he watched as Astella quickened her pace slightly, drawing out the Yamato and channeling a substantial amount of mana into it, causing it to glow an intense white.

_Hurry, Iallis. _Turel thought to himself as he watched Ryden stride closer and closer to the last Balrog. _Time is running out. The veil will fall the moment he slays that last demon._

The final Balrog snarled in defiance and lunged forward at the crusader, claws slashing. Ryden merely stood his ground, and just as the archdemon was inches from striking him, he solidly planted both his feet into the ground and gave a mighty shout of "Spirit Shot!" Energy exploded outward from his body in an almost invisible shockwave, and the Balrog was thrown backwards, skidding backwards several feet before grinding to a halt. Still alive but badly beaten, the Balrog struggled back onto its feet, only to see the crusader holding his right hand high above his head, palm pointed straight at the ceiling.

"You morons never learn." Ryden spoke, conducting his mana into the shape of a spinning, golden disk of energy above his hand. "Thousands of your kind have tried to kill me and have failed. Only a fool performs the same procedure twice and expects a different outcome the next time. Now, it's time for you to die."

Ryden reared his hand back and prepared to throw the disk, but he never got the chance to. Just as he was about to shout "Destructo Disk!", a barrage of divine energy bolts streaked towards him from beyond the veil, exploding on his back and sending him to his knees, the disk above his palm spiraling out of control and streaking waywardly all over the chamber, exploding on the far wall in a flash of fire.

Through the haze of pain and surprise, the first thought that crossed the crusader's mind was _What the hell just happened!?_ Third-degree burns covered his back, and though his regeneration quickly fixed the damage, the pain lingered and fuzzed out his perception of his surroundings. Struggling to turn around and see what had struck him, Ryden's blood went cold when he saw the veil turning transparent, until he saw Astella standing there with the Yamato pointed at him, her face betraying no emotion, even though her eyes told a totally different story.

Ryden had seen pure evil in eyes before – battles with Necropolis' council members made him more than familiar with that. But he had never thought he would see such a thing outside of the council, much less from a person such as Astella. The crusader struggled to get to his feet, but the sheer damage Astella had inflicted upon him had drained his stamina to the point that he could barely keep on his feet, and he teetered slightly as he shakily stood up.

"You fool!" Astella exclaimed as Ryden got to his feet. "You're too easy!"

"Stella… _you!?"_ Ryden just couldn't summon the words. Outrage and shock at this betrayal constricted his throat until he could barely speak, and a hot fountain of anger began to bubble up from deep within his chest. Subconsciously clenching his fist so tightly his nails drew blood from his palm, a white-hot glow began to surround his hand, but he did not notice.

The priestess merely huffed, and continued, "You should have known better than to trust someone from the opposition, Ryden. I thought you were smarter than that. Now, you have something I want, and to get it, I'm unfortunately going to have to kill you."

Her eyes softened for a split second, and Ryden could have sworn that he saw sorrow behind those green irises before they hardened once more, and as he followed her gaze, he saw that she was focusing on the Force Edge. "I'm sorry that it has to come to this, but it's the way it has to be. Goodbye, Ryden Dracon."

Astella began to rear Yamato back, in preparation to deliver a killing slash, and time suddenly slowed for Ryden. As he watched the katana's blade slowly raise itself through the air, he began to recall.

He had spent days forging that weapon as a gift for her, crafting it in the image of his own Deathbringer's katana form, and had even gone as far as imbuing a small part of his power within it. Having given it to her a year ago, he had expected her to put it to good use as a means of protecting herself, but never would he have imagined that it would be used against _him_. As he watched, the Yamato's silver glow intensified to the point that it was almost too bright to look directly at, and something inside him just snapped.

He refused to accept that he could be put down here, by a weapon that he had forged with his own hands, much less by the very same person whom he had trusted and had placed his faith in for the past few years. The hot bubble of anger in his chest erupted into a fountain of rage, and a fury-induced surge of strength flowed through his entire body.

"_NOO!!"_ The word exploded out of the crusader's mouth like a curse, and all of a sudden spectral fire spread all over his right forearm, the same white-hot glow that surrounded his hand now consuming the rest of his limb. His arm's skin once more turned hard and scaled, nails transforming into talons and fingers into claws, and without warning, he thrust his transformed arm right behind him, towards the weakened Balrog lying behind him.

A spectral forearm, one that looked like a shadow projection of his transformed arm, shot outwards, and firmly set its grasp upon the Balrog's ankle. The archdemon roared in protest, but Ryden didn't care – acting completely on instinct, he retracted the spectral projection, and dragged the Balrog all the way back to him like a rag doll until he had the archdemon's ankle grasped within his real hand.

Then, with strength that he never knew he possessed, he began to swing the Balrog over his head, flinging it around like a limp scarecrow. Astella stepped back in surprise at this sudden surge in resistance, and launched several Shining Rays at the rampaging crusader in an attempt to put him down. But Ryden was swinging the Balrog around so quickly that nearly all of her projectiles impacted against the Balrog instead, with none of them managing to land a single hit. Before she could react, Ryden spun towards her and, with an enraged shout, tossed the archdemon straight towards her with all his might.

She only had time to utter a brief curse before the Balrog's massive bulk slammed straight into her, carrying her all the way across the chamber in a flash. The Balrog's corpse flattened itself against the chamber wall, sandwiching the priestess between the rock and its weighty bulk, and Ryden collapsed to his knees, his breath escaping his throat in short, shallow gasps, with the spectral forearm fading away.

Still high on the current of his rage, Ryden gave a final, anguished cry before he tore his eyes away from the sight of the Balrog's body and sprinted back to the chamber's entrance. As he blasted through the double-doors of the shrine, a golden-yellow aura blazed to life around him, his hair flared upwards in upright spikes, and if anybody had been watching they would have seen his hair turn a fine golden-yellow as well, with the irises of his eyes transforming into an intense green and his muscles bulging slightly.

And without the protection of his Zone Suit, he blazed through the Red Zone that was the Ant Tunnels and Sleepywood within a flash, erupting through the manhole entrance and back into Kerning City within a single minute. Any monster that had dared get in his way was instantly vaporized before he could even register the fact that he had unleashed an energy blast. And there, as he began to slowly trudge through the deserted streets of Kerning, panting from exhaustion, his aura died down around him, his hair settled down and returned to its normal color, his eyes reverted back to brown, and his fatigue finally caught up with him.

The adrenaline rush fading away, Ryden felt his limbs begin to grow leaden, and a massive wave of nausea suddenly hit him like a battering ram. Before he could find something to support himself with, the ground dropped out from beneath him, and he was falling into darkness…

* * *

At the cursed shrine, Turel slowly approached the flattened corpse of the Balrog, examining it with a practiced eye. He hadn't expected Astella to be neutralized that easily…

All of a sudden, the Balrog's corpse shifted, and it was abruptly sent flying to the other side of the chamber as Astella, from behind it, unleashed a massive shockwave. Turel merely sidestepped the corpse as it whizzed past him, and turned his gaze upon the priestess, who was panting for breath. The slightly unnerving thing though, was that her eyes had turned a deep crimson, and her hair was now a dark, flowing raven color, seeming to flow and sway in an invisible breeze – a result of the raging dark blue aura that blazed around her. As Turel watched, Astella slowly calmed down, and her eyes and hair returned to their original color, her aura fading away as well.

"I see that you're learned to tap into your inner demons. Rather contradictory, considering the fact that you're a priestess." Turel remarked as Astella slowly stepped forward, bending down only to pick up her fallen katana. The priestess walked past him without so much of a remark, but once a few paces away from him, she suddenly stopped.

"This is only the beginning." She said in a voice as cold as ice. "And I _will_ obtain his sword, and that amulet."

Turel merely shrugged, and began to walk behind Astella as she stalked off. Though the first phase of the plan may have hit a bump, all was not lost – in time, they would have another opportunity to lure the son of Dracon out, and another chance to obtain the key to ultimate power.

Turning his thoughts away from that, Turel switched his focus to that of the priestess; or rather, her transformation. Having dismissed his remark so casually, Turel could only speculate as to what Astella had really done to take Necropolis' hacks one step further.

The warlock recognized the signs of somebody applying self-enhancing hacks upon themselves, but never as pronounced as what he had seen in the priestess. Normally, the only outward signs of performance enhancing hacks would be a subtle change in eye color, as well as perhaps a slight amplification of the intensity of the aura if the user were a magician. Other jobs had their own physical manifestation – a small increase in muscle mass for warriors, cat-like pupils for bowmen, and a slight phasing out of the body's tangibility for thieves. But the aura he had seen blazing around the priestess a mere moment ago was beyond anything he had seen her accomplish before – certainly not a standard, run-of-the-mill self-enhancing hack she had been using there. And her eyes…

Despite himself, Turel could not help but shudder. Those blood red irises looked like a demon's. Hacks offered individuals power beyond their wildest imaginations, and if they were willing to delve even further into them, power that could be taken even further beyond at the expense of their humanity.

But few individuals were mad enough to give themselves over to the darkness within just for another measure of power. Turel admitted that while he was part of that crowd, he was also smart enough not to let the darkness take over _completely_, thus affording him greater power than the average warlock while still retaining part of his humanity. But Astella…

Turel feared that the priestess may have delved _too _deep into her hacks, to the point that she may have sacrificed too much of her humanity in the process. If her power could skyrocket to a level that surpassed his, his entire scheme could all be for naught – everything he had planned would be jeopardized if she turned out to be more powerful than him.

Everything now hinged on whether he could keep a low profile, his true intentions hidden, until Astella had done all the dirty work for him. And then, once he had everything he needed, everything else would just fall into place.

The corners of his mouth curved upwards in an almost unnoticeable anticipatory grin, and he quietly began to laugh to himself.

The idiots had no idea what was coming…

* * *

The smell of burnt cinders slowly sifted into his nostrils, and Ryden instinctively flared his nostrils, grunting slightly. Not realizing, nor caring, about where he was or why he was on the floor, he simply rolled over onto his side for a moment before shifting back into his original position. The smell of cinders intensified, and Ryden grunted even louder. Why the hell couldn't those idiots leave him to rest peacefully?

He was about to raise a hand and wave away the offending smell when something even more offensive took its place – a rancid, putrid odor that burned its way right through his sinuses, flowing straight into his lungs.

A vein nearly popped in Ryden's forehead before he cried out in surprise and shot up from his prone position, choking and coughing, struggling to get the rotten stench out of his nose.

"I see you're finally awake." A familiar voice spoke from above him, causing him to briefly halt his efforts to expel the smell of ammonia from his nose. Looking up, he gazed upon a face that he thought he would never see again.

His mind immediately flashed back to that fateful day in Sleepywood, where he had met his first Esparda. Clad in black from head to toe, polished steel pauldrons, grieves and gauntlets shimmering in the dim light provided by a fire nearby, a cuirass shaped like a rib cage, and that pair of jet-black sunglasses…

"_Smith?"_ Ryden whispered disbelievingly.

The Esparda merely nodded.

"I picked you up from the streets of Kerning. You were just lying in the middle of the road like a ton of bricks. Your body had suffered massive amounts of Tiberium poisoning, and somehow your body has also managed to withstand all of that radiation damage. I've removed all of the Tiberium particles in your body, so by now you should be fit enough to continue on with your duties."

Ryden's mind was whirling from the barrage of information that he barely noticed that he and Smith were alone in a small, dark apartment, with only a single window that allowed the evening's light to shine through, and a small fireplace in the corner with a tiny blaze providing light and heat. "Wait a minute. You saved me, again? And how did you manage to remove the Tiberium poisoning from my body? As far as I know, GDI scientists have had no luck in finding a cure for Tiberium poisoning! And what do you mean that my body had somehow withstood all of the radiation in the first place?"

Smith merely stood there, removed his sunglasses, and gave Ryden a familiar smirk.

"Firstly, I saved you merely because I was under orders by my superior, Longinus. I believe you've met him before. Secondly, removing the Tiberium from your body, for a being of such power as myself, is as simple as pressing 'right click' and 'delete'. And thirdly, I recognize fragments of data from the alpha version of the server that reside within you. You are of Saiyan bloodline, aren't you?"

Dimly registering the fact that Smith's answers only generated more questions, Ryden just sat there and nodded mutely, surprised that Smith would recognize the ancestral power within him that easily.

The shock was apparently showing obviously on his face, because Smith's smirk only widened.

"I _am _a member of Koaxia after all – how can you not expect me to know a Saiyan when I see one? Well, now that you are well, my job here is done. It is time for me to leave."

The Esparda replaced his sunglasses on his face and turned to leave with a swish of the black muffler he was wearing, but Ryden halted him with one last question.

"Wait, Smith. Why… are you here in the first place? Why wait until now before showing yourself?"

Smith turned back to face the crusader, and his eyes glinted from behind his ebony shades.

"I did tell you that you would live to regret your folly that day, and I would be there to see it happen. Well, you have lived to regret your folly, and I have seen it happen."

Seeing the realization dawn upon Ryden's face, Smith nodded. "Yes, that is right, son of Dracon. I was watching you the entire time, since you entered in the Cursed Shrine. You should have let me kill her that day, but you let your feelings for her then get in the way. Now, this is your mistake, so I leave the solution up to you. If you'll excuse me…"

Before Ryden could say another word, Smith took off in a dash, and made a running leap through the window, leaving only the curtains flapping in his wake, and a bewildered crusader with his mind reeling from the information he had just learned.

* * *

**A/N: A week later…**

Striding together through the streets of Kerning, the massive warrior and the smaller, more slender wizard were a stark contrast to one another, and yet somehow they also seemed completely in place with each other. A few passers-by gave them strange looks as they walked down the district that led to the _Dragon's Redgrave_, but none of them gave any verbal comments. The pair of humongous, wickedly curved daikatanas slung across the warrior's back was more than enough to give pause to any potential aggressor, and even the comparatively tiny wizard radiated a substantially powerful aura that would make any likely assailants think twice about considering her to be easy pickings.

As the large, bright-red neon sign of Ryden's mercenary agency finally came into sight, Denice Alenko turned to her older brother beside her, and gestured towards their destination.

"Here it is, brother." The wizard stated, pointing towards the double doors that had been busted down by her a mere week ago, now standing firmly back in their place in the doorway, as good as new. "You'll find that his skills are as vaunted as they claim. I would know – I experienced it first-hand."

The massive warrior standing next to her gave a grin, folding his arms. "You've done well, sister. It seems I was proven right in believing you were the right choice for this task."

Denice smiled back at her brother, bowing politely in recognition of his superior rank, despite their blood relation. "I merely followed orders, brother. I am glad that I could be of service."

The warrior's grin only widened further, and he placed a beefy arm around his younger sister's shoulders in a brotherly embrace.

"Come now, sister. Must you always be so formal towards me? I may be your superior in rank, but I am also your brother. Well, at least now, we know that the future of our people is secure. Now, how do you say we should enter the son of Dracon's office? Like you did last week?" Denice's brother suggested with a glint of cheekiness in his eyes and his grin.

Denice smiled embarrassedly – while giving her report to her brother last week on how she had decided to introduce herself to the son of the legendary crusader, the elder sibling had just simply burst into peals of laughter the moment she told him how she had made her entrance. Denice's elder brother knew all about her weakness for dramatic entrances, but the young wizard was too shy to ever dare try to make one when any of her comrades were watching. Now, her brother would have a field day teasing her endlessly about it.

"I think I'll pass on that, brother. Let's just walk through the door like normal customers…" Denice replied with a nervous laugh, walking towards the doors of the office and knocking twice.

Several seconds passed, but there was no response. Her brow furrowing in confusion, the wizard knocked twice again, but still there was no response.

"That 'motorcycle through the door' approach seems more feasible now." Her brother teased again, a mirthful grin forming on his face. Ignoring her brother's quip, Denice placed her hand on the door's knob and attempted to turn it – it refused to budge an inch.

"Locked." The wizard muttered in annoyance. "I think you'd better handle this, brother. And please, _don't_ use that motorcycle!"

The warrior, with a playful laugh, set down the large, red motorcycle that he had been rearing over his shoulder and stepped forward, placing his own beefy hand over the doorknob. A few experimental twists showed that the knob was still as immobile as before, so he braced himself for a moment before making a powerful forward shove.

The entire door came off its hinges – the doorframe nearly came out with the door itself, as the warrior's massive bulk plowed right through with an enormous crashing sound. Denice could only stare at her brother's lack of subtlety; he could have just broken the lock and entered quietly, but no, he had to bring down the entire damned door.

Her brother dropped the knob that he was holding on to, and, by procession, the entire door that was attached to it, and turned around to face her, sniggering. "Sorry sister. I couldn't resist."

Denice slapped her forehead in irritation. Just great, now Ryden would think they were breaking and entering. Quickly stepping around her brother to view the inside of the office, she was more than shocked to find it empty – the desk, while as messy as before, had no feet propped up on it, and the swiveling chair behind the table was vacant. A quick glance to the left side of the office revealed that the Force Edge was missing from its pedestal, and his katana Deathbringer was nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like nobody's home." Her brother commented, coming up next to her and looking at the vacant desk. Denice shook her head, straining her ears to listen. The office appeared vacant, but she had heard some other sounds coming from behind the door leading to the back of the office.

It was extremely faint, but Denice recognized the sounds of swords being swung through the air when she heard them.

"No. He's here. I can hear it." The wizard purposefully strode towards the door leading to the back before her brother could say anything, and firmly pushed it open, only to be greeted by a sight that she had not expected at all.

The inner room was much more massive than she had anticipated; it was just about as large as the sparring area of a dojo, and looked just about the same too. And at the very centre of the sparring floor, Ryden, dressed in only a pair of white martial sweatpants, wielded his swords like all the demons of hell were attacking him.

Parry, stroke, whirl, slice, impale – his imaginary foes attacking him from all sides at once fell before him. He leapt up with blinding speed as a nonexistent sword sliced at his knees, lunged forward, turned, and blocked a fictitious attack with unerring accuracy. Tucking his sword, he ducked, rolled forward, and came up fighting. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, dappled his upper lip, and slicked his chest. His heart thundered in his ears and despite his training, his breath was coming in little gasps. Rarely could he ever practice with such a level of focused intensity, and he craved the peace he knew would come after such exertion.

He finished the routine, twirled the dual swords expertly over his head, and sheathed them smoothly, Alastor returning to its katana scabbard on his waist while the Force Edge slid back into its sheathe on his back.

Denice could only stare at such a display of speed, power and finesse. If there had been even an entire regiment of Necropolis soldiers here in this room, they would have all been slaughtered by just a fraction of the routine that Ryden had just displayed. Her brother stood beside her, thoroughly impressed by the might of the legendary crusader's son.

Ryden strode towards the side of the room, pouring himself a refreshing draft of water into a cup from a jug on a nearby table, and was about to begin drinking when he noticed he had visitors.

"You're a bit early." Ryden commented nonchalantly before downing the cup of water in a single gulp. "You didn't come here by motorcycle, by any chance?" He continued with a smirk on his face.

"No, I didn't." Denice said quickly before hurriedly ushering her brother forward with an embarrassed look on her face. Wouldn't they ever stop teasing her about it? "Ryden, this is my brother. He's also the superior who sent me here last week. He'll talk to you more about what I told you last week."

Her brother began to step forth, but Ryden waved them off. "Not here in the dojo. Let's talk in my office. Just give me a minute."

Before either of them could say anything, Ryden brushed past them, flinging a towel over his shoulders and stepping through the door they had come in through. The duo quickly followed him through, but Denice's brother suddenly stopped in his tracks when he was halfway through the door, causing the magician to collide straight into his back.

Quietly cursing at the sudden impact, Denice peered around her brother's side, and paled when she saw that Ryden was standing next to his desk, his finger pointed at the ruined door with a questioning expression on his face.

Denice frantically mouthed the words _Not Me_, pointing at her brother's back. Ryden merely face-palmed, and walked to the side of the room, opening the door to the supposed shower rooms, and locking it behind him, not saying a word.

* * *

A short while later, Denice and her brother were seated in chairs in front of Ryden's desk, while the son of the legendary crusader sat behind it, leaning back in his own chair while propping up both booted feet on the table. Having changed from his sweatpants into a more appropriate set of clothes, his trademark black leather jacket over a black muscle T-shirt and jeans, he made for a very apathetic presence, especially with the posture he had adopted. Denice's brother raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if this uninterested, indifferent individual was really the only hope of salvation for their group of Necropolis Separatists.

Ryden coolly took a bite out of the slice of pizza he had in hand, and gave Denice's brother a good, long gaze, chewing thoughtfully on his mouthful of food. "So you're the leader of this group of Separatists, huh?"

The warrior nodded, extending his hand over the table. "Yes, I was elected the leader by our group, and I reluctantly but willingly took up the post. My name is Kaien Alenko, White Knight and formerly of Necropolis."

When Ryden didn't respond to his offer of a handshake and instead remained in his lounging position, still chewing on his pizza, Kaien brought his hand back to his side, visibly discomfited by the crusader's lack of hospitality. Clearing his throat in an attempt to clear the awkwardness, the warrior began to continue.

"I'll cut straight to the point. Our own former comrades are hunting us down. Our members are scattered all over Bera, but our numbers have steadily been dwindling. Necropolis Black Hand assassins have been slowly targeting us, killing us off one by one as they work their way up the command chain. There used to be over two hundred of us – now, less than fifty remain."

"Fifty?" Ryden commented, astonished. "Why didn't you guys try to find help earlier?"

"We did." Kaien replied, with regret showing on his face. "But apparently, nobody we approached wanted to be associated with former Necropolis members. We thought we would find a safe haven in GDI territory, but even then Necropolis still sends out the occasional party of assassins from their Black Hand regiment to hunt down and kill one of us. And since we're not official citizens, we're not under GDI protection. Necropolis is free to kill us as they please."

"And you didn't dare to ask us directly for help. You thought we wouldn't trust you, and we would rather kill you on sight." Ryden finished bluntly for him.

"Well… yes. That's pretty much it." Kaien replied, irked that Ryden had put the point across so brusquely. He could have at least been more polite about it…

"Well," Ryden remarked as he took his feet off the table and leaned forward, "You'd have proven right. At least, only if you'd gone to my superiors directly."

"So you're saying that you'll help us?" Denice blurted out, relief evident on her face. Ryden merely smirked, and leaned back in his chair, placing his booted feet back up on the table.

"No. Not yet, at any rate."

Kaien's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "So what exactly _are_ you saying?"

Ryden merely kept his smirk on his face, and took a sip out of the glass of tequila that was on his table. "Prove to me that your people are worth helping."

Kaien breathed a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes. "I see. So that's all you need." The warrior reached into the pouch he had slung over his shoulders, and pulled out several files of documents, tossing them onto the table in front of Ryden.

"These are top-secret documents stolen directly from Necropolis' R&D archives, as well as from their cadre of lieutenants, from right under the guildmaster's nose. They carry details of many of Necropolis' many developments and plans. Many of our number used to be former members of their R&D department and personal assistants to officers, or were officers themselves, after all. I'm sure your intelligence division will be more than interested in taking a look at these."

Ryden took an off-handed but curious glance at the papers, and then he gave an apathetic grin and swept the folders off his table with a casual swing of one of his feet. "They can stare at that crap all they want, but that's not what _I'm_ looking for."

Kaien's look of puzzlement intensified, as did his sister's. "Then what exactly _do_ you want?" Denice blurted out impatiently. Did the crusader really intend to make things so hard on them?

Ryden's grin merely widened, until he was practically baring his teeth at them. "Make this interesting for me."

Kaien's eyes narrowed, and he returned Ryden's grin with his own humorless smile. "Hmph. Now I get it. Very well then. I must apologize that it had to come down to this."

Denice stared in her brother in shock and confusion, and she quickly got off her chair, stepping back in apprehension. "Brother, surely you do not…"

Before Denice could get any further however, Kaien reached both of his hands over his back, and brandished both of his daikatanas. "Flower wind rage and flower god roar, heavenly wind rage and heavenly demon sneer!"

Before Ryden's very eyes, the two Japanese swords began to glow an intense white, their very shapes morphing and shifting right in front of him. By the time the glow faded, a much larger, much sharper pair of oversized falchions had replaced the dual daikatanas. Kaien displayed his dual weapons proudly, as though he were presenting the pride and joy of his heart.

"Katen Kyokotsu!" The Knight proclaimed, stating the name of his pair of swords.

The crusader raised an eyebrow, but was stirred by the display nonetheless. "Impressive. I didn't think there were any other weapons in this world that were anything like Deathbringers."

"Our old guild's R&D department hasn't been idle for the past few months, you know. We managed to steal several of these before we escaped." Kaien answered. "They managed to create a form of weapon called a 'Zanpakuto', or 'Soul Slayer', one that closely mimics the nature of your own Deathbringer, though mostly at a lower level. After all, imitations rarely surpass the original, don't they?"

Ryden smiled, and closed his eyes, remembering the encounter between Longinus and Sindri that Astella had once related to him. "You're right there. Imitations rarely surpass the originals. But what about this one?"

Kaien's answer came in the form a blow, as the White Knight brought down one of the blades in a wide arc, slamming it straight down towards the seated crusader. Without even shifting from his seat, Ryden raised his left leg, and it was immediately encased in ice, Shiva instantly responding to the call of its master. The magical armor of frozen water stopped the blow cold, the blade of the falchion not even leaving a mark upon the greave, and Ryden parried it aside with a mere flex of his ankle.

Pressing the attack, Kaien reared the first falchion back while striking simultaneously with the second one. Again, Shiva came up to defend against the blow, Ryden remaining unmoving in his seat, not even looking up to defend against the strike. His poise was so calm and relaxed that he even kept his hands hidden in his pockets.

Internally, Kaien was beaming from ear to ear. Indeed, this man sitting before him, so effortlessly deflecting his attacks was their savior! But could he keep up under pressure? Kaien decided to put that to the test, and stepped up the pace of his attacks. Miniature wisps of wind began to swirl around his blades, and Katen Kyokotsu began to grow in speed, striking against Shiva harder and faster, until Ryden was eventually forced to actually look up to coordinate his defense.

"You're pretty good." Ryden commented off-handedly as he lashed out with Shiva to deflect another oncoming strike, sending it flying harmlessly wide. Kaien merely grinned back, and suddenly reversed his grip on both of his falchions, bringing them in an abrupt reverse strike that streaked right at Ryden's exposed face.

There was a brief flash of fire, and out of the blue the Zanpakuto was stopped inches from the crusader's neck by a flaming gauntlet. Ifrit had responded to its master's call as promptly as Shiva did, and Ryden only had to flex his wrist briefly to force the blades away.

Kaien stumbled back, bringing Katen Kyokotsu back into a ready stance, but Ryden beat him to the punch, literally. The crusader, sitting down in his chair several feet away from the knight, suddenly disappeared from sight and reappeared, standing right in front of Kaien and staring into his face, his brown eyes boring straight into the knight's cobalt blue ones.

Then Ryden delivered a sudden punch to the immobilized Knight, straight into his gut, so swiftly that Denice, who had been watching from the side, was almost completely unable to see it happen, much less follow it. Kaien exhaled explosively as the blow sank into his ribcage, and he crumpled to his knees as Ryden brought his fist back.

"But not good enough, apparently." Ryden finished coolly, blowing steam off of Ifrit.

Coughing and sputtering, Kaien certainly gave the impression that he had been beaten – Denice could see that Ryden had let his guard down. The crusader was now standing in a relaxed posture, with one hand on his side as he watched Kaien struggle on the floor. The knight suddenly tightened his grip on his Zanpakuto, and seemed to finally catch his breath.

"Huh… you're fast. I'll give you that." Kaien gasped out, grinning despite his pain. "I certainly didn't expect you to hit me that quickly."

"Seems a lot of people are underestimating me these days." Ryden responded with a smirk of his own. "I've heard that phrase a lot from your old council members."

"All the more proof that your might is as vaunted as they claim. If you're able to surpass their estimations time and time again." Kaien struggled to speak as he forced himself unsteadily back onto his feet.

Ryden chuckled, and gave a wistful look. "Not much claim there, actually. Their expectations of me weren't even very high in the first place."

"Is that so? Even then, I have successfully fended off several Black Hand assassination attempts myself. I know for sure that I'm a good fighter, but for you to fend me off this easily…" The knight stated, taking up a stance and raising Katen Kyokotsu once more. Ryden raised an eyebrow, and Kaien answered the crusader's unvoiced question.

"You wonder why I still fight while I have already been decisively beaten? The answer is simple – I want to see all of your power."

At this, Ryden allowed himself a smile, and he shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? I haven't even called out the First Release of my Deathbringer and I already had you on the floor. Ifrit and Shiva may pack more punch with individual strikes than Alastor, but Alastor is much faster and can hit harder over time. Those gauntlets and greaves are mere supplements, and I still managed to decisively beat you with just them. The power gap between us is that big."

Kaien's friendly expression disappeared, replaced by cold, hard determination. "Enough! Don't treat me like I'm some sort of weakling! You may be the best in the entirety of GDI's army, but that doesn't mean you can look down on all of your opponents! To refuse a fight is to sully your opponent's pride and honor!"

Ryden gave the knight a long stare, and nearly burst out laughing. "You hold on to those ideals, even when you're a former member of Necropolis? I take my hat off to you, friend!" The crusader's mirthful expression then disappeared, and turned completely serious. "Very well, then. I shall show you the First Release of my Deathbringer."

Satisfied, Kaien took up another ready stance, holding up his Zanpakuto and waiting for Ryden to make his move. The crusader dismissed his gauntlets and greaves, the fire and ice disappearing from his extremities, and he blurred backwards, suddenly appearing at the back end of the room.

Kaien grinned, and remarked, "Impressive. Reports from the field had indicated that you were capable of moving so fast until it seemed as though you were teleporting, but also limited to movement only towards an enemy. I see that you've managed to perfect that technique even further."

Ryden smirked back, replying, "Yeah. I used to rely on Air Trick to close the gap, but I realized how useful it would be if I could use that speed to retreat as well. The solution was this new technique – I call it _Shunpo_, or the Flash Step. Now, to demonstrate my First Release…" The crusader extended out his right arm, and with a brief flash of light, a katana with an ornate hilt abruptly materialized in his hand. Swiftly removing the sheath of the katana, the crusader then held it out to his side.

"Hark, Alastor." Ryden murmured, closing his eyes. Watching in awe, Kaien and Denice stood rooted to the floor as the katana began to glow and change its appearance, much like how Kaien's own daikatanas had morphed earlier into the falchions they were now. As the glow faded, Denice saw that the katana had transformed into a giant, steel greatsword that had a menacing dragon's head serving as its hilt. Two draconic wings formed a stylized guard, and visible arcs of electricity could be seen dancing around the blade.

"I know of that weapon." Kaien remarked with a grin. "Again, from several stories that I've heard from many of my old soldiers. They spoke of a raven-haired crusader, wielding a sword as tall as himself, brandishing lightning as his weapon as though he were a god of thunder."

The knight raised his left arm, pointing at Ryden's Deathbringer with the point of his falchion. "Alastor, the _Black Thunder Blade_!"

His eyes still closed, Ryden merely grinned. "No. It's just Alastor for now. I haven't achieved the Second Release yet, so I don't know what Alastor's title is. But whatever his title is, it sure as hell wouldn't be something as corny as '_The Black Thunder'_."

Kaien smiled as well. "Perhaps. But corny title or not, it must surely possess much power, even without your _bankai_. And that, I would like to see a _demonstration!_"

Simultaneous with his last word, the knight lunged forward, thrusting with both falchions. Before he could begin to wonder what the hell a '_bankai´ _was, Ryden quickly knocked aside both blades with a casual swing from Alastor, not even bothering to take up a proper stance, but even that slapdash swing packed enough force to send Kaien stumbling to the side, the parry so powerful that he was dragged along with his swords.

Before the knight could even move to recover, Ryden disappeared from sight again, and materialized right behind Kaien, Alastor's blade held millimeters from the knight's neck.

"You're too slow." Ryden remarked off-handedly, as though he were commenting on the weather. Kaien merely grunted an acknowledgement, and suddenly he twisted himself downwards and under, slipping right beneath Alastor's blade and inside Ryden's guard before the crusader could even move.

But as though he had _planned_ for that to happen, Ryden moved simultaneous with Kaien's dip, leaping over the knight and completely bypassing the uppercut that the knight had attempted to make with his Zanpakuto. Cursing as he realized that his strike had missed, Kaien spun around to face the crusader again and bring Katen Kyokotsu to bear…

Only to come face to face with Alastor's blade again, held mere millimeters from his face once more. With a friendly grin, Ryden rotated his Deathbringer until the flat edge faced the knight's countenance, and he knocked Kaien lightly on the forehead with it.

The resulting current sent enough of a shock through the white knight's bones that he was knocked flat on his ass, his torso slamming onto the ground split second later. Ryden stared down at the prone knight, who could only twitch and gasp for air, then smirked and reverted Alastor back into its katana state, sheathing it smoothly before dismissing it.

"I hope that was enough of a demonstration, because you obviously just got your ass kicked by me." Ryden remarked casually as he strode back to his desk, hands in his pockets, and he resumed his indifferent posture of two boots up on the table. Denice quickly rushed over from the side and helped her brother to his feet, who was grinning from ear to ear despite the beating he had just received.

"Yeah, that was more than enough. So, will you help us?"

Ryden appeared to adopt a thoughtful expression, then he dug out a coin from his pocket, Denice recognizing it as the very same coin that he had used on the day they had met.

Before Kaien could say anything, Ryden flipped the coin once, and snatched it out of the air. He opened his palm, and grinned at the result.

"You and sister both are lucky. Yeah, I'll help you guys."

Kaien and his sister both sighed in relief simultaneously, and the knight strode forward, extending his hand towards the crusader. 'Then it is settled. I have your assurance that your superiors will arrange for protective custody?"

"More than that." Ryden replied. "I'll make sure you guys become full-fledged GDI members yourselves."

Denice was so grateful upon hearing that, that she found herself blinking back tears. Even Kaien was similarly affected, and though he displayed no visible changes in his thankful expression, the knight's voice nearly broke as he thanked the crusader for his effort. They would have settled for protective custody, but as full-fledged GDI members, nothing short of an actual skirmish could allow Necropolis to touch them. They were in the good guys' jurisdiction now.

Ryden grasped Kaien's outstretched hand firmly, and the pact was sealed.

The Necropolis Separatists were now a part of the Global Defense Initiative.

* * *

Several minutes after Kaien and Denice had left, Ryden had glanced inconsequently at a dark corner of his office, and remarked, "I know you've been eavesdropping on this entire conversation."

Stepping out of the shadowed corner, Zeraion Phoenix strode forward, unabashed at being caught. "They're former members of Necropolis, Ryden. I don't see your motive here. Why are you helping them so?"

"They have information we could use. Simple as that." Ryden replied indifferently, not meeting Zeraion's eyes as the ranger stared at him unwaveringly.

"That's what our superiors would say. I'm asking _you_, why are _you_ choosing to help them? As far as I know, you couldn't care less how the rest of GDI progresses in the war, as long as you get to strike at Necropolis."

The crusader sighed, and finally turned to face Zeraion. "There are many questions that I have for Kaien himself. If he's an officer, which he most probably is, he'll know the inner workings of Necropolis. He'll know of their plans. And he'll know of details of _council members_."

"So your personal motive here is revenge. You want to get back at Raveshaw." Zeraion deduced.

Ryden flinched inwardly as the ranger uttered the name of his mother's murderer, and he turned his gaze away again. "Yeah. You could say that. Though there are a couple of other things as well."

Phoenix looked at his friend with an amused, questioning expression. "Like?"

Ryden contemplated telling Zeraion that he was actually wondering about the '_bankai_' that Kaien had mentioned, then decided against it and opted to keep his mouth shut.

"No. It's nothing. Look Zer, it's been a long day, and Command hasn't called in for ages. Why don't you bugger off to HQ and check the mission logs instead of interrogating me here?"

Though a little miffed at the dismissal, Zeraion chalked it down to his friend's usual attitude, and he promptly left the office, departing for the _Philadelphia_. Sighing, Ryden leaned further back in his chair, his mind in turmoil.

He hadn't forgotten about the betrayal he had suffered a week before. The emotional pain and shock of being double-crossed like that had quickly worn off – Ryden wasn't one to let such things affect him for long. But the resentment… the want to do unto her as she had done unto him…

That was the reason why he had been training so hard. Astella and that accomplice of hers could strike again at any time. And when they did, Ryden would be ready.

When they did, Ryden would take their schemes, and crush them to dust with his own hands.

Nobody messed with the son of Dracon and got away with it.

Still, despite his hunger for revenge and his simmering anger towards the treacherous priestess, the crusader still felt quite disconcerted at the emotions stirring within him. By right, he should have been thinking of a way to salvage the situation, a way to convince Astella to abandon this dark path she had embarked upon. And instead of that, he was preparing to take revenge, to inflict upon her the same hurt that she had inflicted upon him.

Mind in turmoil indeed. Ryden ruffled his hair out of irritation, thoroughly frustrated at the conflicting emotions that raged inside of him. He hated being confused like this.

_Mother… _The crusader thought to himself as he absent-mindedly touched the dangling silver amulet that rested on his chest.

_What should I do…?_

* * *

A/N: You know the drill. I'm getting tired of placing these in the author's notes. Follow-up trailer to Sunset Horizons may be coming soon after this, but not the next full-fledged chapter for quite some time. More reviews may equal faster updates.


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: We don't own nothing, so there.

* * *

A/N: What I have planned for Chapter 21 is really too freaking long to be portrayed in a single update. I have at least 9k words here prepared and ready to be shown, but the rest hasn't got enough inspiration for me to write them in a form worthy of presentation. I'm going to present them in Acts then. Here's Act 1, enjoy.

Once Act 2 is ready, I'll repost Chapter 21 by adding on Act 2 to the end. Same for Act 3 (if there is one), and so on. You should get how the updates will work for now.

P.S. CrapPishh handled a small part of this chapter, so let some credit go to her in your review =D

A/N (Act 2): With the introduction of the Pirate Job Class, I'm not going to hesitate introducing hand-to-hand combat elements as well as guns... well, as far as pistols go, that is.

* * *

Chapter 21, Act 1: Secrets of the Server

At eight o'clock on Thursday morning, Rathias Gardner didn't feel very good. He woke up blearily, got up, wandered blearily around his room, opened a window, caught a glimpse of a glint of metal off an assassin's shuriken amongst the green of the bushes outside thanks to his ultra-sharp Bowmaster eyes, found his slippers, and stomped off to the bathroom to wash.

Toothpaste on the brush - so. Scrub.

Shaving mirror - pointing at the ceiling. He adjusted it. For a moment it reflected a second glint of metal amongst the bushes through the bathroom window. Properly adjusted, it reflected Rathias Gardner's bristles. He shaved them off, washed, dried, and stomped off to the kitchen to find something tasty to put in his mouth.

Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee. Yawn.

The words _glint of metal off an assassin's shuriken _wandered through his mind for a moment in search of something to connect with.

The number of glints of metal amongst the bushes outside his window was quite a large one.

'Shiny,' he thought, and stomped off back to his bedroom to get dressed.

Passing the bathroom he stopped to drink a large glass of water, and another. He began to suspect that he was hung over. Why was he hung over? Had he been drinking the night before? He supposed that he must have been. He caught another glint outside the window thanks to his bowmaster eyes. 'Shiny,' he thought, and stomped on to the bedroom.

He stood and thought. The pub, he thought. Oh dear, the pub in Kerning City. He vaguely remembered being angry, angry about something that seemed important. He'd been telling people about it, telling people about it at great length, he rather suspected: his clearest visual recollection was of glazed looks on other people's faces. Something about a big secret operation that the Wise Men had hidden from him until now, he couldn't remember all the details. It had been in existence for as long as anyone could remember only no one seemed to have known about it. Ridiculous. He took a swig of water. It would sort itself out, he'd decided, no one wanted any part of some big secret operation, the Wise Men didn't have much of a leg to stand on without the cooperation of the four generals they put in charge of GDI. It would sort itself out.

God, what a terrible hangover it had earned him though. He looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror. He picked up his shaver. 'Shiny,' he thought. The word _shiny_ wandered through his mind in search of something to connect with.

Fifteen seconds later he was crouched down behind his kitchen counter, bow in hand with dozens of shurikens and arrow bombs flying in through his windows.

* * *

He stood as he had for the past two hours, head down, eyes closed in concentration. Around him, only a dim light with no source gave any illumination to the chamber, not that there was much to see. A chair he had left unused stood to the side, but aside from that, the room was empty save for himself.

Before his chest he held both hands out, palm of his right placed atop his left, with his fingers curled inward. Words of power issued forth from his lips, and opposite him, at the far side of the chamber, materialized a practice dummy, a red and white bullseye painted upon the straw puppet's chest. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he began to exert control upon the mana currents within his body, struggling to push it in directions that went against its natural tendencies. The mana currents within his system, and by extension his own body, began to protest at such unnatural activity, for their caster sought to channel it in a manner that required a medium, one that was currently not present.

Pain slowly crept into his muscles, flowing into his bones, but he pushed onwards, ignoring the slowly growing agony. Perspiration began to flow down his face in rivulets, but he continued to feed power into the arte, despite the steadily mounting exhaustion. His expression contorted in what could only be barely tolerated pain, but satisfaction soon began to mix with the agony as a small, fuchsia-colored orb of energy formed before his interlocked hands, floating a mere inch in front of the center of his foremost palm.

As the ball swelled in size, slowly at first before rapidly increasing in pace, the caster slowly brought his hands to his side, keeping both interlocked and at chest level with titanic effort. Sweat now practically coated a countenance that visibly displayed immense strain, a sign of the tremendous struggle that he was going through to keep the forces he sought to command under control.

_Just a little more..._ The caster thought to himself, perspiration now pouring down his face. His arms shook from the pain that now wracked his bones, the ball's cohesiveness fluctuated madly, but somehow, through it all, he still managed to maintain control.

And just as he thought his control, his mind, would snap, that he would explode from within by the sheer amount of mana he contained, he felt the power of the arte reach its peak, its very apex - it was ready to go.

With a shout fueled by pain and determination, Zeraion Phoenix thrust the sphere of fuchsia energy forward with both palms and screamed, "Galick Gun!"

A streaming mass of energy, the very same shade of fuchsia as the ball of energy, spewed forth from his foremost palm, the one locked behind it continuously feeding energy into the beam. But even as he relinquished some of the iron-fisted control that he had resolutely held upon the arte, he still kept a tight rein over the energy that he had unleashed, directing the torrent of mana exactly as he desired despite the tremendous effort he expended to ensure that it did so.

And finally, for once, instead of arcing off to the side or dissipating into thin air before it reached its target, the beam flew straight and true, impacting against the straw dummy and nearly sending it flying off its base. Still, its base had been specially, magically reinforced to readily withstand the impact of several hundred metric tons of weight crashing into it all at once, so it was no surprise that the beam had failed to tear the puppet off the ground. In fact, Zeraion was surprised that he had managed to shake the puppet at all, so drained by his previous attempts that he had expected this latest one to fail.

The ranger had been training inside his personal chambers for several days now, attempting to master the arte of manipulating mana with his bare hands the way his comrade Ryden had so naturally and swiftly learned to do so. But Zeraion had not experienced much success that way - the past few days had only resulted in several self-inflicted injuries as he struggled to grasp the concept behind bare-handed mana manipulation. Bruises covered his body, and he bore several wounds caked in dried blood, wounds that could barely be seen to even with the several packs of elixirs that he had brought into the chamber with him.

Exhaustion overwhelmed him as he fell to his knees, laboured breathing echoing round the bare room. He blinked hard, clearing the stinging drops of perspiration that had entered his eyes as gravity exerted its pull on them. His hair, soaked with sweat, now clung onto his face, their obstinate refusal to budge sending a ripple of annoyance through the ranger's mind.

He remained in that position for a while, pondering; half of his mind reveled in his astonishing accomplishment, yet the other half was still coping with the immense disbelief that was flooding into his brain as the feat registered itself.

_I... I did it...?_

A smile slowly found its way onto his face while the ranger contemplated further, sending a rush of adrenaline pumping excitedly within him. Pushing all weariness aside, the ranger willed his grudging body to get up. Facing the straw dummy again, Zeraion steadied himself, taking in a deep breath before shutting his eyes and taking up his position. He felt his mind struggle to rein in the mana currents, which were determined to rebel against his control at all costs.

With his brow furrowed in utmost concentration and agony, countless trickles of sweat channeled themselves downwards via his already drenched hair and onto his neck, flowing slowly enough to cause reasonable irritation. Yet, nothing would deter the ranger from his goal as he fought with the currents inside him, currents that challenged and resisted his every mental attempt at controlling them. He felt the pressure mount as power slowly flowed out of his body and into the arte. The pain he had been experiencing soared past the point of being purely unbearable and into empty numbness as more mana flowed out, trying to form the energy ball he visualised in his mind. Zeraion's mind was under extreme strain as he continued to force his energy out, and it was beginning to reach its limit. He knew he was almost there, thus pumping out more power than before in a desperate attempt to perform a repeat of the previously attained achievement.

Then, all of a sudden, it shattered. It was as if his mind had exploded, collapsed due to the intolerable exertion on it. The mana currents rioted back against his reign, back-flowing in massive torrents into his body at too fast a rate for him to handle, resulting in a merciless knockback that sent him sprawling onto the floor. His perspiration-soaked outfit stained the cold ground in an obvious shade of darkness, marking the area of his fall. His fiercely pounded the ground and gritted his teeth, all in sheer frustration, before a slight groan escaped his lips: the pain from a newly-formed bruise was starting to wash over him.

Clenching both fists, Zeraion tried to stand up, but to no avail: his body simply disobeyed him, completely worn out by the intense stress that the mental tug-of-war had on his physical self. Finally giving in to his own body's plea, he allowed himself to remain on the floor, after cringing as the full extent of the cruel agony shot through him; it was too much to bear, yet, was tolerable enough not to send his sense of feeling into nothingness, like before.

Mustering up what little of his strength he still possessed, the ranger managed to pull himself off the floor. Though shaky at first, his steady composure was soon regained with help from an elixir, giving him the much needed boost required in order to continue in pursuit of his endeavors.

The heavy panting soon ceased, replaced with a lighter, much easier breathing pace. Taking up his stance and holding his palms in place, he fixed the goal firmly in his brain. The target stood calmly across the room, as if cheekily daring the ranger to attack. He would gladly oblige once he managed to cast his arte, but in the meanwhile, he was focusing on the task at hand. His arms began to quaver, slightly at first but much more violently as the power built up. His body's mana reluctantly acceded to his demands, the normal flow disrupted by his mental actions and commands, ebbing unsteadily out of his palms in formation of another fuchsia ball.

Maintaining a tight hold over the incredible power he had amassed was extremely difficult, so it took a great deal of his willpower to move his interlocked hands, and even more of his spirit just to maintain his temporal mastery over the unstable sphere of mana. Sweat rained down from him like arrows shot in simultaneous succession while pain shook him to his core, enticing him to just let go, give up, yet threatening to unleash the fury of unnatural mana currents onto him should he relinquish his control. At that point, his instinct screamed at him, screamed at him that the arte was done, screamed at him to release the harnessed energy.

"Galick Gun!" he cried out again, voice filled with the pain and fresh resolve that had enabled him to press on thus far, as he thrust the crackling fuchsia orb towards the practice dummy once more. A beam of fuchsia light responded to his command, in near perfect imitation of his earlier attempt.

_So far, so good... _He registered mentally, still wrestling with the strapping pulse of energy he had just unleashed, trying to rein some of it back after having slacked off too much of his control. Despite his effort, it was far too late when he realised that the attack had gone haywire; he was unable to designate the desired direction and force in which it were to travel in, causing the unruly beam of fuchsia to ricochet uncontrollably off the wall behind the target, missing it by mere inches.

The knockback power from the blast was also too great for the unsuspecting ranger to withstand and due to his inability to react quickly enough, Zeraion could only widen his eyes in shock while the sheer strength of the beam rebounded back onto him. He braced himself for impact, pushing back against the shaft of light with all his might.

Once the dust settled, he could make out a gaping hole on the wall where the mana pulse had struck; the area where there once had been concrete and plaster was now occupied by nothing but air, a physical testament to his brilliant, yet unsuccessful attempt. The caster noticed that the knockback had indeed managed to push him against the force of friction, for he was standing a clear few feet behind his original position.

_Damn, how does Ryden do it anyway?_ Zeraion thought, panting hard as he carelessly uncorked another elixir, flicking the unwanted cork onto the floor, which was already littered with uncountable numbers of the similar brown material. Holding the opening of the glass bottle to his mouth, he desperately gulped the liquid down in a single swig, before flinging the near-empty container onto the growing pile nearby. The remainder of the purplish liquid was sent spraying out of the bottle as it flew across the room, but not like Zeraion was in any mood to notice such unnecessary details; he was trying to calm both his mind and body down, trying to tighten his focus for one final attempt.

Remaining motionless for a little longer, the ranger's weary gaze settled on the straw target, which was still standing, almost innocently, upright. The single sound that echoed round the empty room was that of his seemingly unending stream of perspiration, dripping to the ground at a steady pace.

Upon deciding that he had cooled off enough, Zeraion forced himself back to his feet, a determined grimace set upon his face. _This_ time, he'd get it right.

Gingerly interlocking his hands once more, Zeraion began to push the mana inside his body against their will once more, directing the currents the way he wanted them to go. It was like trying to redirect a wave back into the ocean, but try as hard as he could the Ranger did. The fuchsia ball appeared once more before his extended palm, but this time it didn't have a stable, smooth surface.

Instead, it was fluctuating wildly. The sphere was pulsating crazily like a beating heart, and Zeraion instantly knew something was wrong.

This time was one time too many. The ranger's mind had been stretched to its limit; the only artes he could perform now were screwed up ones. _Now_ he realized what Athena meant by learning bare-handed mana manipulation was too dangerous.

Desperately, Phoenix attempted to halt his mana manipulation and cease the performing of the arte, it was already too late. The moment he relinquished his control on the mana currents, every iota of energy that he had focused into forming the fuchsia ball that hovered in front of him immediately blasted backwards back into his body, crashing back into his system in a backlash of energy. It was certainly more than his body could take at this point, and somewhere in the back of his mind Zeraion knew something very painful was about to happen.

The result of the energy backlash manifested in the form of an explosion that took place right at his right forearm, damn near blowing it off. A white supernova exploded inside Zeraion's head, and the ranger screamed in agony as blood went flying, splattering across the floor in bright red splots, and he slumped to his knees, cradling what was now a mangled mess of his arm.

"Gah, fuck!" Zeraion swore loudly, not caring for the fact that he hardly used vulgarities like that. The pain was so overwhelming that he couldn't care less what came out of his mouth, all he wanted was for the pain to go away.

Staggering to his feet while simultaneously making a herculean attempt to stop the massive bleeding in his arm, Zeraion slowly began to make his way to the bench where he kept his medical supplies and elixirs - or at least, he tried to.

He only managed five steps towards the bench before a combination of both pain and light-headedness forced him to the ground. This time he didn't even land on his knees - he simply toppled face-first to the floor, clutching at his bleeding arm as he lay down in a slowly growing pool of his own blood.

_Oh, crap... _Zeraion thought to himself distantly as his vision began to fade. _I guess I pushed my luck... too far..._

Just as he prepared to welcome oblivion, he suddenly felt a pair of hands roughly grab him from underneath his shoulders, turning him over onto his back. The ceiling of the room he had been practicing in greeted him, but off to the side he could see the annoyed expression on his savior's face.

_Ryden..._ How the hell did he suddenly appear out of nowhere? And more importantly, what was with those strange hand signs that he was performing?

Though his hearing was nearly shot to hell, Zeraion could still vaguely hear the words Ryden was muttering under his breath.

"_Tora, Uma, U, Ne, Inu... __Shōsen no Jutsu__!"_

Zeraion felt a pair of palms being applied to the massive wound on his arm, but strangely enough he felt no pain. Instead, a warm, comforting, emerald green glow surrounded the point of contact, and immediately the ranger began to feel better. His sight sharpened, his hearing returned, and his arm felt as good as new. Scarcely able to believe it, Zeraion experimentally flexed his forearm muscles, and was delighted to find that the action brought no pain at all.

"You seriously need to work on that mana control of yours, Zer." The ranger heard Ryden say with a twinge of annoyance in his voice, and he quickly sat up, still panting from exhaustion but significantly less sore than before. "I'd hate to always have to patch you up like this if you keep screwing up your Jutsus."

"And _I _don't know how the hell _you_ manage to do it." Zeraion shot back, his fuse already quite short thanks to the tiredness that permeated his entire body. "I've seen you do it so many times but I just can't get the bloody thing to work!"

Out of frustration at his failure more than anything else, the ranger impulsively smashed his fist into the floor, slightly startling the crusader sitting next to him. Ryden sat there stunned for half a second, then he gave that confident smirk that was somehow able to intrigue and infuriate Zeraion at the same time.

"That's because you're doing it wrong. I won't say that I didn't have lots of trouble the first time, but the more I did it, the easier it got. I'm surprised you can't manage it." The crusader got to his feet, and Zeraion's eyes followed him, an eyebrow arched sardonically.

"Let me show you something, Zer. A little trick that I learnt from the Dark Lord and his ninja arts."

With a single leap, Ryden was suddenly several feet away from where Zeraion was sitting, facing the puppet dummies on the other side of the room. "Watch carefully."

At first Ryden stood in a typical ready stance, with his feet apart and his body hunched over, bending slightly forward. "This is what you're doing; you're just trying to channel the mana without forming or crafting it first. What you're trying to do is to instantly turn chaos into order." He then curled his fingers inward and places both his hands together, with the heels of both his palms touching together and his palms facing straight outwards. "You should be able to figure out by now that it places a lot more strain on the body."

"Ka..." Ryden said, twisting his body slightly to the right and bringing both his palms backwards until they were near the right side of his waist, tucking in both arms close to his body but not touching his sides. Already Zeraion could see what Ryden meant. The crusader's teeth were gritted together, and he could see a few beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The muscles on his arms were tightly banded into steel bars, flexing mightily, and Zeraion could clearly see veins popping out.

"Me..." Ryden then said. He cupped his fingers together until they formed a crude sphere, and then he commanded "Ha..." Abruptly, a small, glimmering point of sky-blue light formed in the space between his palms, which quickly expanded into a rapidly growing sphere of energy. Upon commanding "Me..." again, Zeraion could clearly see that Ryden was feeding as much energy as he could control into the sphere. The warrior's eyes had narrowed into slits, and his muscles were trembling already. Just as Zeraion thought Ryden would lose control of the arte, Ryden thrust both of his hands forward, releasing all of the mana at once, and shouting "Ha!!!"

Zeraion still cringed inwardly at the bizarre name that Ryden had given the arte that he had invented himself, but he realized that "Galick Gun" was hardly any better. Still, he couldn't help but gape at the streaming mass of azure blue energy that exploded outward from Ryden's hands. It was easily twice as large as the best Galick Gun beam that Zeraion could manage, which was only about half again as large as the palm of his hand, and he could already see that its cohesiveness was much greater than his own beam.

The mass blasted forward, rushing towards the innocently standing puppet dummy at the far end of the room like a bullet train, and it slammed straight into it, detonating with a tremendous bang. The backlash of wind generated by the impact was so tremendous that Zeraion actually had to raise an arm to block it. Ryden simply stood where he was, a huge, satisfied grin on his face as the wind blasted straight at him.

When the wind died down and the dust had cleared, Zeraion lowered his arm, and gaped at the result of Ryden's beam. The steel beam upon which the puppet was braced had been bent at nearly a forty-five degree angle - that would have taken the force of one of Orbis' airships crash-landing straight into it.

When he looked at Ryden, he saw that the beam had visibly taken quite a lot out of him. The crusader was hunched over, panting heavily, but moments later he quickly straightened, brushing hair dampened by perspiration off his face.

"There!" He exclaimed. "That's what happens when you try to manipulate the mana right off the bat. Now, here's how you can do it more easily..."

Before Zeraion could register what Ryden had spoken, the crusader had already started. Ryden immediately started performing the strange hand signs that he had made to execute the healing arte earlier, but this time he was moving much more rapidly - so much so that Zeraion could barely keep up with seeing what the signs actually looked like. A few seconds later Ryden suddenly exclaimed, "_Tats_u!" (Dragon)

Then he proceeded to do the exact same movements as before, but Zeraion noted that he did it much more smoothly, and seemed to be under significantly less strain. Not to mention much faster - before a single second had passed, Ryden already had the brimming sphere in his hands, but this time it seemed much more stable than before.

The crusader unleahed the beam once more, and again Zeraion was blown away by the sheer size of it. This time the beam was as tall as Ryden himself, and when it impacted against the straw dummy, the resulting explosion damn near knocked the ranger off his feet. By the time the smoke had cleared, all that was left of the dummy was a smoldering heap of ash and slag.

It took the ranger several seconds to get his mouth working. "Holy shit, Ryden, what in the name of Bera was that?"

"Hand seals." Ryden stated proudly, obviously referring to the strange hand signs he had been performing. "They help a lot in mana control - each seal serves a different function, but they all contribute in some way to molding your mana in order to make it easier to manipulate for your artes, or as Dark Lord always calls them, your Jutsus. He'll be able to tell you more about this; I learnt it all from him."

The crusader sounded unusually chipper today - Zeraion could only wonder why. Usually whenever Ryden was more cheerful than usual, it meant that there was either an upcoming mission that involved major action against Necropolis, or...

Frankly, Zeraion couldn't think of any other reason that Ryden would be more chipper than normal.

"Anyway, the Wise Men instructed me to find you, they've got a briefing for us in the war room, but for some reason you were uncontactable," A corner of the crusader's mouth lifted upwards in a knowing grin. "Care to explain that last part?"

"None of your business." Zeraion said quickly. It wouldn't have done for anyone to have butted in while he was in the middle of his training, but trust Ryden to have so easily circumvented the precautions the ranger had taken so that nobody would discover what he was attempting. The ranger quickly got to his feet, and Ryden eyed him concernedly.

"I don't think you ought to be moving so quickly in such a state. At least get some elixir before we leave."

"No need for that," Zeraion replied curtly, already picking up his haversack of potions and striding towards the door. "I'm feeling better already."

In truth, the latter part of his statement was completely false - while his right arm was completely free of pain, the rest of his body ached like a bitch. His muscles and ligaments screamed out for rest, twitching painfully every time he took a step. It was all the ranger could do to keep his expression free of discomfort. Still, the jealousy at having been so thoroughly bested by Ryden was more than enough motivation for him to keep his stride solid, his poise unfettered.

Ryden eyed his comrade questioningly, then shrugged and followed him out of the chamber.

* * *

Pausing for a moment to catch her breath while she waited for the stretcher bearers to bring another patient, Surgeon-Priestess Iris Shizune was surprised to realize how inured she had become to the sound of men screaming. Around her, the walls of Kerning City's hospital reverberated with it constantly. She could hear men shouting, begging, moaning, shrieking, muttering profane oaths and whispering half-remembered prayers. Not for the first time, ever mindful that it was her calling to alleviate the pain of others, the surgeon-priestess looked about her at the place where many other like her practiced their craft and felt despair.

To a man less accustomed to it, the dimly lit interior of the hospital's main operating theatre might have been mistaken for a scene from hell. Along one wall of the station, hundreds of severely wounded men lay in litters stacked four men high on a series of metal racks. Against the other wall a dozen exhausted priests and priestesses worked feverishly to clear the most urgent cases from tables that stank with the blood that stained every surface of the floors and walls. For each man they successfully healed, a dozen more men waited amid the suffocating stink of blood and pus and death, desperately wailing and pleading for help in a cacophony of suffering that never reached its end.

"Stomach wound," her surgical assistant Jaleal said, breaking into her thoughts. "He's been given morphine," The cleric added, checking the treatment notification tag on the patient's ankle as the stretcher-bearers lifted the unconscious form of a wounded White Knight onto the operating table before them. "Two doses."

Taking a pair of scissors, Jaleal removed the tag, before tearing off the White Knight's metal breastplate and cutting away his tunic in blood-encrusted strips to reveal the wound hidden beneath it. Then, taking a wet cloth from a bucket at the foot of the table, he washed the worst of the blood away from the edges of the wound. They had taken care of so many patients before this that their mana reserves had been completely depleted - bereft of their healing artes, they had to resort to using the manual tools and techniques provided by Kerning City's hospital to continue patching up the wounded. Only their knowledge of battlefield triage and medical skills kept them from being completely useless.

Jaleal was only a Cleric, Iris had realized that for a long time, but even at the age of sixteen, the young Cleric had already seen more death and despair than many others his age. Even though GDI had managed to occupy and hold the whole of Victoria Island, it did not come without great cost. Hundreds of men were either killed or wounded in weekly raids by Necropolis on the airship ports of Ellinia, and soon enough most of the garrisons around Kerning City, Perion and Lith Harbor saw their own soldiers being reassigned like nobody's business just to replenish the depleting ranks of the Ellinian garrison. If they didn't make the push towards Ossyria soon, they wouldn't be making a push at all.

While it was true that the horrors of the Guild War were experienced by all who took part in it no matter what role they played in GDI's army, those who got the worst of it were either those serving on the front lines as foot soldiers, and those who were responsible for patching up those foot soldiers who weren't cut up so badly that they had to be sent back in pieces. All things considered, Iris thought Jaleal was holding up against the pressure remarkably well.

"Looks like a through and through," Jaleal said, examining the wound before him. "From the size of the wound I'd say a Dark Ranger's flechette arrow was the cuplrit. The blood's dark. Looks like his liver's been punctured."

"Give him some Omega Sector Painkillers," Iris said, taking a scalpel from a tray of instruments nearby as she stepped to the side of the table. "Standard dosage."

"We have none," Curlen, her other assistant, said. "We used what was left on the last patient."

"What about the other anaesthetics?" Iris replied. "The nitrous oxide?"

"Gone as well," Jaleal said, grimacing for once. "If he wakes up we'll just have to hold him down."

"At least tell me we have some blood plasma left?" Iris said exasperatedly. "If I have to go digging around this man's insides in search of a wound in his liver, he's going to bleed like a stuck pig."

"Not a drop," Jaleal said, shrugging in helplessness. "Remember the sucking chest wound twenty minutes ago? That ranger got the last of it."

"How much blood is there in the overspill bag, Jaleal?" Iris finally asked.

Ducking his head under the table, Jaleal checked the contents of the transparent bag underneath it designed to catch the blood bleeding out of the patient as it oozed along the disposal gutters set in the table's sides.

"About half a litre," He said, pulling the bag up from beneath the table. "Maybe three quarters."

"All right," Iris said. "Replace that bag with a new one and use the contents of the one you've got to autosanginuate him."

"You're going to transfuse him with his own blood?" Jaleal asked incredulously. "There's barely enough in here to keep a dog alive, never mind a man."

"We've got no other choice," Iris declared, leaning forward with a practiced hand to make the first incision. "He'll die anyway if this wound isn't seen to. Now, look sharp, gentlemen. We're going to have to do this fast, before he bleeds to death."

Cutting an incision to open the wound, Iris quickly peeled back the skin around it and fixed a clamp in place to keep it open. Then, while beside him Jaleal used his cloth to mop at the blood welling in the wound cavity, Iris searched desperately for the source of the bleeding. It was hopeless. There was so much blood in the wound she could hardly see a thing.

"Vital signs are weakening," Curlen said, his fingers on the man's neck keeping an eye on his pulse. "We're losing him."

"Lift his legs up, Jaleal. It'll send more blood to his heart," Iris ordered. "I only need a few more seconds... There! I think I've found it. He's got a tear in the main artery leading to his liver."

Pushing her hands deep into the wound cavity, Iris clamped the bleeding artery shut. Only to find her hopes frustrated as, abruptly, the cavity began to fill with blood once more.

"Damn it! There must be another wound somewhere in there! Curlen, how's he doing?"

"I can't find a pulse anymore, ma'am. We could try to manually resuscitate him?"

"No," Iris said, throwing her bloody scalpel down on the instrument tray in frustration and hating herself for what she was saying, but this was clearly wasted effort. "It probably wouldn't do any good. He's bled out. The flechette arrow probably hit a rib and caused bone fragments to perforate his liver in about a dozen places. Clear the table. We can't save this one."

Grabbing a piece of discarded cloth to clean her hands, Iris stepped away from the table, pausing only to glance at the dead White Knight as Curlen signaled for the stretcher-bearers to take him away. _How old was he,_ she thought. _He looks to be in his forties, but that means nothing here. This war has its ways of aging a person. He might only be in his early thirties, even late twenties. _Then, as they lifted the dead man's body from the table, Iris noticed an old scar in the patient's side. _He's been wounded before, _she thought, _And patched up. I wonder, was it my work or someone else's? Doesn't matter now I suppose. Whoever saved the poor bastard's life before, there was no saving him this time._

Sighing, she turned away to gaze around once more at the confines of the operating room before her. As she did, she realized how little good could be done there for the dying and suffering men who came to the hospital day after day, despite the priests' best efforts. _It's not the war or even Necropolis that kills most of them,_ she thought. _It's the shortages of supplies in this damned hospital._ _We're short of mana, healing artes, restorative potions, anaesthetics, antibiotics, plasma; even the most basic of medical equipment. Short it seems of everything except pain, death, and futility. In this war, these things at least are never in short supply._

Then, as she made to throw away the cloth she had used to clean her hands, Iris noticed something written on it. Looking at it more closely, she saw there was a name stencilled in the cloth. _Repzik_. Abruptly, she realized the cloth must have come from the dead White Knight's tunic - one of the pieces Jaleal had cut away earlier to reveal the man's wound. _Repzik,_ Iris thought sadly. _So that was what his name was_.

Clutching the cloth tightly for several moments, Iris shut her eyes tightly, struggling to suppress the grief that came with every patient she failed to save, and quickly tucked the cloth into a side pocket in her robes.

Like every patient she failed to save, she would remember this soldier's name, and ensure that he got a proper funeral. It was the least she could do for those who gave their lives in defence of Bera's freedom.

The surgeon-priestess sighed again, and signaled the stretcher-bearers to bring up the next patient.

* * *

"He's been badly wounded." Dances with Balrog commented gravely, gazing at the limp body that lay on the table before them.

"No shit, Sherlock." The Dark Lord muttered darkly, standing beside him. "I can't believe Necropolis actually managed to sneak a team of assassins into Victoria Island right under our noses."

"Could you two keep it down?" Grendel nearly snapped, his hands hovering over the body, surrounded by an azure, arcane glow that extended to the body in front of him. Sweat was already beading on his forehead. "I can barely sustain the life inside him as it is without your breaking my concentration!"

Athena merely stood to the side, staring at the table in mute silence. Dances with Balrog and the Dark Lord glanced at her concernedly, and looked back to the unmoving form of Rathias Gardner that lay on the table before them.

The bowmaster's body bore many wounds, a few of them critical but many of them debilitating. Grendel's efforts had managed to all but stop the bleeding entirely, but the table the bowmaster lay upon was almost coated in blood. Many of his wounds were already in the process of mending, but even someone as well-versed in the arcane arts as Grendel could only do so much by himself. It was going to take a lot more than just a Bishop's healing skills to completely heal the bowmaster.

One wound that was most prominent though, was the bleeding vertical mark that Gardner bore over his left eye socket. Grendel had closed that eye in order to prevent further damage by bleeding, but it was already a gone case. Rathias would never see out of his left eye again.

It had all been so sudden. The Wise Men had been sitting in their chambers, casting their senses out to monitor events in Bera as usual, when Keiga Seles had suddenly barged in out of the blue, carrying a bloodied and unconscious Rathias Gardner over his shoulder.

The Dark Knight had been understandably distraught - it would be quite a shock to be on your daily morning walk only to pass by your best friend's house to see the entire building reduced to rubble, and to see him bleeding his guts out on the sidewalk.

The Wise Men had immediately relieved Seles of his burden, and reassured him that Rathias would immediately get the best of medical care that they could afford him, and they would take care of it personally if they had to, but they immediately sent him off after that.

They didn't allow him to stay because one: Rathias would not be receiving immediate medical attention from GDI doctors.

Two: They weren't going to see to his _complete_ healing personally either.

Three: Though they weren't about to let one of their generals die, they had something else aside from healing him in mind entirely.

Athena finally stepped forward and, careful not to interrupt Grendel's work in maintaining the bowmaster's ebbing life force, set a motherly hand on Gardner's forehead.

"It is unfortunate that it had to come to this," The elven bowmistress said, gazing sadly upon one of her favorite students. "But you would agree that this is a good opportunity, no? With the vision in his left eye gone, he now has nothing to lose from the operation we proposed."

"You do realize that the undertaking of this operation was supposed to be a completely voluntary procedure, Athena?" Dark Lord asked questioningly. "Gardner was against taking part in it from the very beginning. If it screws up, he isn't going to be very happy when he wakes up."

"And if we don't do anything, Gardner is still going to remain sightless in one of his eyes regardless. We have a shot at restoring his vision at least, why not try it?" Athena said.

"The risks that teachers would undertake for their favorite students." Dances with Balrog sighed. "You remind me of myself, Athena. That, and what I taught to... Dracon. It proved to be his undoing. Now what you're about to do to Gardner... we don't even know if the server is stable enough to take another addition like this."

"If the server can take Ryden, it can certainly take this." Athena replied. "The likelihood that it will cause further instability is minute, at best. But think about it. We have here a chance to kill three birds with one stone."

"Two, you mean." Dark Lord corrected her. "The long-term repercussions on Gardner may outweigh the potential benefits he may receive from this operation, even if it does prove that the server can support the..."

"Are you guys done?" Grendel wheezed impatiently. "I'm starting to get tired here."

"I for one, think that Rathias should be able to handle the burden placed upon him. I have trained him for several years, and have every faith in him." Athena declared confidently. "Dances, what do you think?"

"This reminds me all too much of when I taught Dracon that technique..." The elder warrior sighed. "But I remember what I felt when I made the decision to grant him that power, and I can't say that I blame you for having this faith, Athena. You too, believe that this will turn out for the best. I support your decision."

The bowmistress then turned to the Dark Lord, who merely stared back at her with the gunmetal-grey eyes that were the only things his mask didn't conceal. "I'm not against you doing this," The Lord of all Thieves told her. "But if Rathias wakes up and he's still blind in one eye, don't say I didn't warn you. It will be a colossal waste if the operation fails."

"Very well then." Athena said, relieved. "Grendel? What say you?"

"I'm fine with anything, as long as you take this bowmaster off my hands so I can take a break! Call up Iris Shizune!"

* * *

_**Several hours later...**_

Rathias Gardner woke up with a bitch of a headache.

The very first thing that he did upon stirring was to let out a long string of profane oaths under his breath, instinctively reaching up to his head and pressing his fingers to his temple, scrunching up his eyes involuntarily as a monster migraine assaulted his brain. Utilizing his full vocabulary of vulgarities, he systematically sorted through the epithets alphabetically, in case he missed out any. He passed through the scatological and had started on the blasphemous when the feeling of something on his face that wasn't supposed to be there shut him up.

The familiar texture of cloth could be felt covering the area of his left eye.

In a rush, it all came back to him.

There had been an assassination attempt. He had been lucky to scrape through it by the skin of his teeth, barely managing to fight off the assassins and kill off every last one of them, but he mentally cursed himself for not being more alert. He had lain there on the sidewalk for several minutes, barely able to crawl, when Keiga Seles had the good fortune to stumble upon him while he was still alive. Just before falling unconscious, Rathias had used to the last of his strength to instruct Seles to get him to a hospital, and then he had fallen into oblivion.

Apparently the Dark Knight had not let him down, but there was still one unanswered question.

What had happened to his left eye that it had to be covered like this?

_Don't tell me they... _A surge of anger nearly began to rise in him, but he quickly suppressed it. It could be just that his eye had sustained an injury that couldn't have been healed immediately, and they had to cover it to prevent infections and whatnot. Of course it didn't explain why it was an eye patch instead of a bandage dressing, but he decided to leave that question unanswered for now.

Fighting against the pounding ache in his head, the bowmaster opened his right eye by a crack, confirming his suspicions that he was in a hospital ward. Sterile white walls surrounded him on all four sides, and the bedsheets were a crisp, clean white. An IV line was set up to his right arm, but Rathias quickly reached over and removed it, ignoring the minor but sharp and sudden pain that it caused him. Blood began to flow from the insertion point, but Rathias formed a few hand seals, and placed his palm over the wound, thanking the Dark Lord for teaching him that little trick. Seconds later, there was no trace of it.

Curious as to how well they had patched him up, Gardner raised his hand in front of his face, flexing it experimentally. No pain or aches whatsoever, apart from the one in his head. He tried raising his arm, and found that he had no trouble doing so. Testing the movement in his legs, he found them to be equally functional, with no soreness in his limbs at all.

The bowmaster smirked. _Must have been Iris' work putting me back together. Only she could do such a good job with the right tools. _Gardner thought to himself. The former leader of Last Hope had quickly ascended through GDI's ranks as a master healer after the fall of her guild at the hands of Necropolis. Throughout the course of the war she had become well-respected within GDI's medical staff for saving many lives where others had deemed them a lost cause. Of course with the latest strain on GDI's medical supply lines, there was only so much Iris could do now to save the lives of the wounded. She may have been one of the best healers they had, but she was only human.

Rathias guessed that the only reason why he hardly bore a scratch now was that the Wise Men had allowed Iris access to 'special resources' to get him patched up. Struggling to rise to an upright position, the headache intensified as he began to move. Cussing like a drunken sailor, Rathias dragged himself off the bed, relieved to find a glass of water on the bedside table. He immediately grabbed it and chugged it down in a single gulp, and though it did little to assuage his migraine, it was better than nothing.

As he stood, a wave of vertigo struck him out of the blue, and Rathias nearly toppled to the floor. His hand shot out to the bedside table in an attempt to support himself, and he barely managed to keep himself upright.

Gasping, the bowmaster stayed where he was, not moving a muscle and waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. What the hell was that supposed to have been? He certainly didn't expect any after-effects from an operation by Iris' hand. Moving slowly and catiously, lest he cause another wave of vertigo, Rathias slowly trudged to the bathroom, sighing. The day had gotten off to a hell of start. First an attempt on his life, and now he was hospitalized. What else could possibly go wrong?

Slowly entering the bathroom, Rathias shuffled over to the mirror, wondering if the headache he was experiencing now was the very same as the hangover that he had this morning. Squinting at the image that he saw in the mirror, he noted that he was still clad in his bowmaster clothing, and he was indeed wearing an eye patch. A black one at that, and Rathias couldn't help but think that he looked somewhat like a pirate right now. All he was lacking was the captain's hat and the parrot, but he certainly had the long, vertical scar running down the eye that was covered by the eye patch. The edges of the scar were clearly visible from the edges of the patch.

Tentatively reaching a hand up to the eye patch, the bowmaster prodded his eye lightly. No sudden jab of pain - whatever damage had been done to his eye, it had apparently been repaired enough that the tissue wasn't tender. It felt as though his eye had never been injured in the first place. The only sign of injury was the long scar running down his eye socket.

But if that was the case, why did they cover his eye? If it was well enough to not hurt, it would surely be well enough to see.

The bowmaster began to reach underneath the edges of the eyepatch, slowly peeling the cloth up and back, when a sudden female voice coming from behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"I wouldn't remove that if I were you."

Rathias nearly went flying through the roof of the bathroom. Spinning around, he nearly dropped himself into a ready fighting stance by pure instinct, only to realize that it was merely Iris.

"Damn... Shizune, you really ought not to sneak up on people like that." Gardner commented, trying to conceal the fact that he had been grossly inattentive for a bowmaster, who were supposed to possess senses sharper than anybody on Bera, save for Ryden's supernatural senses.

Snorting, Iris merely jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, ignoring Rathias' excuse. "Athena told me to get you when you woke up. She wants to speak to you."

* * *

"So I have you to thank for saving my life?" Rathias said rather nonchalantly for addressing a matter so significant. He and Iris were striding down the hallway together, standing apart from each other at a companionable distance. Down here in the private sector of Kerning's field hospital, only personnel with special permission could enter this area, and that permission wasn't given so often. Unlike upstairs where the halls stank of death and blood, this place was completely sterile, and the walls were pure white. The corridors were completely desolate save for the two of them.

"The Wise Men called for me. I answered." The priestess simply stated, and Rathias had to suppress a reaction at how much Iris had grown. From an idealistic if somewhat naive young woman who had just made head of her guild prior to its fall, she had grown over the course of the war into a matured, serious, no-nonsense lady. Everything about her was completely professional - he could see the marks that her job had left on her. Her robes were somewhat clean but still bore some tiny copper-brown stains upon them, bloodstains that had ingrained themselves so deeply into the fabric that no amount of washing would ever remove them. Though only in her early twenties, Iris bore as many lines on her face as someone in their late thirties, and there were serious eyebags underneath her eyes.

_She must have spent several sleepless nights patching up the wounded, soldier after soldier. _Rathias realized. _This war has galvanized her. Her post has become her life, and saving the lives of others has become her art. So much so that even with the shortage of medical supplies, she still refuses to give up on saving them. So many of our troops owe their lives to people like her, those who selflessly give of themselves so that others may live. Heh, one day she might give so much of herself that she'll end up as the one being patched up instead of patching others up._

Iris noticed him gazing at him out of the corner of her eye, and she turned his head to face him. "What is it?"

Smothering a grin, Rathias averted his gaze. "Nothing." He focused on the hallway ahead of them.

"I was just reflecting upon how much you've grown ever since this war started."

Iris gave a short laugh, and a rueful smile settled upon her features. "Nobody can go through this war without doing some serious growing up, Rathias. Bera isn't what it used to be. Kain's turned half of this world into a toxic, radioactive wasteland. Bera is never going to return to the way it was before this war."

"Got that right..." Rathias muttered. The duo continued to walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Rathias following Iris through the twisting and turning corridors of the hospital's lower levels. Finally they came to a large set of double doors, with the large banner over it stating in large, bold letters, "**Administrator's Office**".

The bowmaster suppressed a laugh. Trust Athena to try and have a chat with him in a room that simply screamed authority. Well, given her position as one of the Wise Men of Bera, he guessed it couldn't be helped.

Iris was gracious enough to open the door for him, and Rathias unhesitatingly stepped inside, noting that the only people inside the room were Athena, who was leaning against the desk in the center of the room and gazing at him with an unfathomable expression, and Grendel, who was sitting behind the same desk that Athena was leaning against.

"It's good to see that you've recovered quickly, Rathias." Athena began, not giving the bowmaster a chance to speak. "There's something urgent that we need to speak to you about."

* * *

Chapter 21, Act 2: The Blood Link

_"What?!"_

"You heard me Phoenix. We're mounting an offensive on Orbis two days from now. It's time we made the push."

The ranger stared at the Dark Lord incredulously, both in disbelief but simultaneously, relief.

Relief because it was about time that they made the push to Ossyria - but disbelief because they were ridiculously low on manpower. Several hundred of their soldiers were already hospitalized, with a few thousand more already dead. Zeraion didn't know how the Wise Men intended to make a successful offensive with a grossly under-sized army, but as far as he could see this was an attempt that bordered on suicidal. Apparently, all five of his assembled squadmates, Ryden included, shared that sentiment. All of them were staring at the two Wise Men before them with expressions that bordered on incredulous.

"Dark Lord, with respect sir, I think our army is in hardly any condition to be making an offensive." Zeraion tried to protest. "We're already hopelessly outnumbered by the Necropolis garrison on Orbis - not to mention the fleet they most probably have defending that town. Our own fleets are barely ready to fight them, I don't see how-"

"We've already covered that part, Phoenix," The ninja lord reassured him confidently. "You didn't think we were foolish enough to attempt an assault on an enemy fortress with a crippled army, do you?"

Zeraion didn't like the look that the ninja lord was giving him, but Tora, who was standing next to him and apparently felt the same way, expressed his sentiments before the ranger could.

"Don't tell me... you're throwing all of us into the fight." The chief bandit said.

Dances with Balrog nodded an affirmative, but Tora simply scoffed in response.

"There's no way even the six of us all together can make up for the losses that our army has taken." Ascion protested. "Sir, I respect the confidence that you have in us, but this is simply too much!"

"Not to mention that we're leaving our own garrisons vulnerable with all of us away from Victoria Island at the same time," Ark added. "Necropolis might take the chance to stab us in the back if we concentrate too much of our strength in one assault."

"We got that covered as well," Dances with Balrog stated with a confident grin. "Personally."

Zeraion's jaw nearly dropped open, and Ryden smirked. "So I guess we don't have to worry about anything back in Vic then?"

The Dark Lord shook his head, but Ascion was not convinced. "That still doesn't answer my question! How do you intend to make up for our army's losses with just the six of us?"

Dances with Balrog sighed, and looked at the priest with an expression that plainly said _Are you dumb or are you dumb?_

"Major Blade, you're forgetting about the Necropolis Separatists that we took in. While not really making up completely for our lost numbers, their aid in itself will be considerable. And did you really think the six of you are the only trump cards we have?"

* * *

"So... you want me to take part in this assault as well?" Rathias asked Athena slowly.

"Not just you, Rathias - all four of you. Delta Squad will be participating as well. We'll hold the fort here while you, Seles, Raizen and Stalrigarde are away." The bowmistress told him, her expression serious.

Rathias pursed his lips, but he only managed to hold it in for a few seconds - a loud chuckled escaped from his mouth a moment later.

"You've got to be kidding me, Athena. I just got hospitalized, and as much as I want to get back out there as well, it defies common sense to discharge me two days after having surgery on my eye!" The bowmaster said incredulously.

"You do realize what we did, right?" Athena said cautiously.

Gardner sighed, and pressed his hand against the eye patch covering his left eye. "I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Either way, I'd still have been blind in my left eye if you hadn't done anything. As much as I resent you making this decision without my consent... I realise that if I were in your position, I'd have done the same. Better to take a gamble than simply surrender to fate."

"Then I'm glad we understand each other." Athena replied, with a trace of relief in her voice.

"So... what was the result? Am I still blinded in that eye? Why is it covered?" The bowmaster asked.

"It was a narrow save," Athena confessed. "The operation had a 10 percent chance of your body completely accepting the eye, a 30 percent chance of it only partially accepting it... and a 60 percent chance of rejecting it. I'm not surprised that your body failed to completely accept the eye, but I'm thankful that it wasn't a complete waste."

The bowmaster released the breath he had been unconsciously holding. "That's good, then," At least he still had sight in his left eye, though it still didn't answer why it was covered. Apparently Athena wasn't going to answer any more questions about the surgery, so Rathias decided to turn his attention back to the briefing.

"What we transplanted into you should have increased your powers as well, Rathias. You feel it already, don't you?" Grendel finally said. "That's why we're throwing you out into the field so soon after this surgery - we know you've recovered quickly enough."

Taking in what the wizened archmage had said, the bowmaster realized he was right - even for something as simple as moving his arm, his movements already felt stronger, surer. Even his eyesight in his undamaged eye seemed sharper, and if he focused enough, he could make out the exact pattern of the intricate grooves on Grendel's staff - something he knew he wasn't capable of before.

"You will be at full strength in time for the assault, Rathias. Don't worry about the details." Athena reassured him. "Now, we have the battle plan to go over..."

* * *

"Necropolis will undoubtedly lead the defense of their fortress with their battle fleet first, so we will have to deal with that aerial battle first before we can make landfall," Dances with Balrog stated. "General Gardner and General Raizen will lead the fleet's main battleships, while Commander Phoenix and Major Tales lead the snub fighter squadrons. The rest of you will be waiting on the assault barges. Once the Necropolis fleet has been dealt with, our forces will make landfall. You'll find that the procedure will differ little from your old mission at Ellinia."

"3rd Company, our Infiltration Corps, led by Lieutenant Drakeson, will target the power plants first to knock out their defense grid as quickly as possible." The Dark Lord continued for him. "Once that is accomplished, 5th Company, our Heavy Assault Force, led by Captain Wolfen will lead a rush to take out their communications so they can't call for support before the emergency backup generators kick in."

"Simultaneous with 5th Company's assault, 7th, 8th, 4th and 6th Company, our Ranged Support and Spellcaster forces, led by Lieutenants Arklanser and Arundale, as well as Major Blade and Lieutenant Leinharte respectively will target the barracks and the armories to take out as many of their forces before they can fully mobilize. Captain Igzarion will be placed in charge of 9th Company, which will be held in reserve should 7th and 8th Company run into any trouble. Members of 10th Company, our medical corps, while be placed under the command of Captain Iris Shizune, and will be dispersed amongst the other nine companies to keep them in fighting condition."

"Once the barracks and armories have been destroyed," Dances with Balrog said once Dark Lord had finished his lengthy explanation, "1st and 2nd Company, our main and secondary assault force, led by Generals Seles and Stalrigarde, and Colonel Dracon, will lay siege to their Command Centre. Once the Command Centre's outer perimeter has been breached, all Company Leaders are to take a quarter of their men and converge upon the Command Centre. Commander Phoenix and Major Tales are also to take part in the assault. While they are away, General Raizen will have overall command of the aerial fleet."

"One question, sir," Roxi quickly raised a hand. "Do we have any intel on how strong the enemy defense fleet is?"

"Unfortunately, no," The Dark Lord said darkly. "In the wort case scenario, given the strength of the raiding fleets that have been attacking lately, and our own fleet's current strength, they will outnumber us at least five to one."

* * *

"That's insane!" Rathias burst out. "How do you expect us to win with a fleet five times smaller than their own!?"

"Calm down, Gardner," Grendel said forcefully. "The Necropolis Separatists brought along some ships of their own. And they're not just frigates or destroyers - they've managed to bring us ships from the top of their lines. I'm sure a dozen Necropolis cruisers will surely be enough to even the odds for us."

"You also forget, Gardner, that Necropolis grows complacent in their technology and hacks," Athena reminded the bowmaster. "They have become content to let their hacks do the work for them that they rarely get up and do it themselves; basically they've lost grasp of tactics and strategy and have become simple-minded in their battle methods. The only reason we have prevailed so far is that though our equipment is inferior, we let our heads and our minds compensate for that weakness. Tactics, Gardner. If a GDI frigate with smart tactics can stand up to a Necropolis frigate that's not using tactics at all, imagine how devastating a Necropolis cruiser could be with those same tactics applied."

* * *

"That's... completely one-sided," Ryden said with a smirk, leaning against the doorway behind the rest of his squadmates. "Hardly seems fair."

"Don't forget Ryden, Necropolis still has the advantage of numbers," Dances with Balrog said seriously. "The Separatists' help only gives us a chance at evening out the odds, but we'll still have to keep on our toes if we're going to win."

"As I said earlier, the assault is two days from now, so within 48 hours, Operation: Overlord will commence. Take the time to prepare yourselves for the coming battle - it will undoubtedly be one of the hardest GDI has ever gone through so far. Dismissed!" The Dark Lord stated. One by one, the Dead Six filed out of the briefing room, until Ryden was the last one remaining, as though he still had a question.

"You have something to ask us, son of Dracon?" The Dark Lord questioned the crusader, who stood stock still from his position against the doorway.

"You mentioned that I'm in command of 2nd company... but you have _two_ generals in command of 1st company. Why is that so? Is my presence really necessary in this battle?" Ryden asked curiously.

"Of course it is, Ryden," Dances with Balrog stated. "You're the single most powerful individual in this army. Without you, 2nd company's strength will be more than halved, even if General Stalrigarde takes over in your place."

"I'm sure that hermit can handle things," Ryden remarked offhandedly. "I... may have prior commitments."

"_Prior_ commitments?" The Dark Lord asked incredulously. "What commitment could possibly come before this war??"

Ryden's eyes locked with those of the ninja lord, and even the king of thieves, who was allegedly the most hard-hearted of the Four Wise Men, nearly flinched at the crusader's own orbs - dark brown orbs that had once sparkled with life and hope were now all but empty and black, save for the burning fires of the desire for revenge.

"It's a _personal_ matter, Dark Lord. Let's just leave it at that."

Before either of the two wise men could say anything, Ryden turned on his heel and swiftly left the room, leaving the duo standing in shocked silence, and it was several moments before the Dark Lord could get his mouth working.

"He's too much like his father now, Dances. Gods forbid, he may end up exactly like him..."

* * *

**Twelve Hours later...**

Deep within the confines of the caverns, a robed figure sat in the center of a pentagram, legs crossed and hand clasped as if in deep meditation. A sheathed katana lay across the figure's crossed legs, and trembled slightly as the figure murmured words of arcane power over and over again, triggering tiny tremors in the chamber they were in.

Far at the back of the cavernous chamber, yet another robed figure, this one taller than the other, watched the other in complete silence. His stoic poise was a complete contrast to his mental state - he was practically bursting with anticipation. The ceremony was nearing completion - soon, the entire world of Bera would tremble at their feet as they unleashed the power of a thousand demons upon them.

Meanwhile, the one seated in front of him, her robes draped about her svelte figure, intensified her murmurings of the incantations, focusing and channeling all the mana she could spare into the sapphire blue amulet that hung across her neck. Her thoughts were greatly different from her accomplice's; it had been a narrow save, retrieving that amulet - it had been by a stroke of pure, dumb luck that while searching for it, she stumbled upon it as it was worn by one of the POWs that Necropolis had kept as trophy victims from the raid on Last Hope's headquarters oh so long ago. Astella had completely forgotten the name of the POW that she had found it on, but the poor sod had been tortured beyond sanity by her guild superiors that even she felt the need to put the poor bastard out of his misery. What they did to him was so horrible that it made her stomach turn to even think about it, so she instead concentrated on the task at hand whenever she began to think of how she had managed to get the amulet.

As the pentagram she sat within began to glow an infernal red, she quickly changed her set of incantations and began performing hand seals rapidly as well. Abruptly the colour of the pentagram changed from an infernal red to a deep lavender purple, as the mana stored inside the amulet worn across her neck began to flow into the summoning pentagram and merge with the already-existing energy inside the arte.

And as the summoning reached completion, far beneath them, thousands of feet buried beneath the earth, an ancient structure of ungodly proportions began to shift from inside the prison of earth and rock that had confined it for decades. The last time it had been summoned was in a great war that had nearly changed the world, but as fortune would have it, the world produced an unlikely hero that put it down before it could unleash the horrors that it kept confined within, and before that, it had remained untouched for a millenia. Astella didn't need to be a history genius to know that the aforementioned "unlikely hero" was Ryden's father, Dracon, but this time...

This time, there would be no "unlikely hero" to put the tower down. Astella was _expecting_ Ryden to turn up, and when he did... she would take his half of the amulet, complete it, and claim the power of Dracon's sword.

Ryden didn't go _anywhere_ without the Force Edge, even if he hardly used it. Astella knew her former lover well enough that she had everything planned out in a manner that she knew everything would proceed smoothly once the first steps were taken. Once the tower was raised, nothing would stop her.

Absolutely nothing.

* * *

Miles away, at the very same moment, deep within the confines of Necropolis' Citadel, hidden away inside the blasted, Tiberium-devastated wasteland that used to be Omega Sector, a figure seated inside a vast chamber exactly mirrored Astella's movements. As the distant priestess set a delicate hand on the hilt of the katana that rested on her crossed legs, the figure did exactly the same to the hilt of the sleek, silver longsword that lay across his own lap. As the priestess rose to her feet, the figure did exactly the same, mirroring her movements perfectly. And as they both straightened simultaneously, the figure opened his eyes, while Astella's remained closed.

_Yes... This is perfect._

What little light in the chamber only illuminated his silhouette, and the familiar bald head of Necropolis' Guildmaster was immediately apparent. Hidden by the darkness, his lips peeled back in a savage grin - the anticipatory grin of a predator that had succeeded in cornering a prey that was completely unaware of its presence.

_The priestess played her part out perfectly... If I'd known it was going to be this easy, I wouldn't have bothered with all the subtleties. And now, all that is left is the son of Dracon..._

Slowly raising his curved longsword to his face, Kain softly caressed the blade with his fingers, grinning sinisterly in anticipation. Smoothly sheathing the blade into the scabbard that rested on his waist, his hand stopped covering the hilt just long enough for the name _Tsurugi no Kusanagi_ to be seen carved onto it, in smooth cursive letters.

Then, as abruptly as the carving was revealed, Kain disappeared from the chamber.

* * *

And within the bustling streets of Kerning city, nestled comfortable in his office chair, Ryden sat at the desk of his agency's office, the _Dragon's Redgrave_, staring up at the ceiling blankly. A half-eaten pizza lay within its open box on his desk, right next to his propped-up, booted feet, and his twin pistols, Ebony & Ivory, lay across his lap, on the smooth, black leather of the pants that he was wearing. His upper body's powerful physique, ripped and lean, lay exposed to the chilly, air-conditioned office air, and from his neck dangled his mother's amulet, the ruby glittering under the office's dim flourescent lights, the metal of the chain cool against his skin.

Ebony & Ivory had come a long way from the claws that they were once originally forged as - constantly tinkered with and upgraded until they both resembled and rivalled Omega Sector's infamous Desert Eagle Handguns, Ryden _knew_ that they were the only guns of their kind in Bera (at least, for the moment). They had even progressed from using regular stars to an entirely different ammunition type, not even the bullets that Omega Sector's firearms used. Omega Sector's Desert Eagle handguns had two variants - one that used a calibre coded as .45 ACP, and was used widely as a standard sidearm by Omega's Peacekeeper forces, their standard soldiers, and a larger, more powerful calibre that usually wet the pants of whoever went up against Omega's Enforcers squadron, their elite regiment, whenever they heard its code: .357 MAGNUM. Of course, both of those calibres, and the Desert Eagle variants that used them, had long since been destroyed ever since the Tiberium nukes had landed. Omega Sector had been long declared a Red Zone, and all of Omega Sector's weapons were probably either destroyed or raided and laid claim to by Necropolis by now.

Still, that didn't stop Ryden from innovating. With a few hundred rounds he had managed to scavenge from odds and ends that GDI expeditionary trips had managed to recover from trips to Yellow Zones, the very same tinkering that he did to Ebony & Ivory and transformed them into the pistols they were now resulted in producing their very own ammunition type as well - in homage to the .357 MAGNUM calibre, that Ryden had heard had enough kick to stop even a Lycanthrope in its tracks, he had named the new calibre he had created .50 AE, or as he always referred to lovingly as "Fifty Cal Action Express".

Nobody ever bothered to remember their full names, but they had become damn near legendary in GDI's army for their stopping power. Eight golden cartridges, each chocked full of six of those rounds, lay stacked on Ryden's desk next to the open pizza box, and just one cartridge's worth of bullets would be enough to literally drop three Crimson Balrogs. He was the only one on the planet who knew how to make this calibre of rounds, and as such he was the only wielder of it.

The rest of Ryden's arsenal had not changed much, though some of the weapons he had originally forged during his initial training as an Agent had phased out into obsoleteness. The Kalina Ann and Spiral had been lying in his agency's storeroom, unused and collecting dust for months already, but Ryden had no intention of breaking them out of storage. Ifrit lay smouldering on his desk to his right while Shiva sat at the foot of the table, still frigid and frosted over. Alastor, sealed into its katana form, lay against the table to his left where he could grab it at a moment's notice, but despite all the weapons that were stacked around him, Ryden didn't make any moves to take hold of any of them.

Instead, he lay stock still, leaning back in his chair, seemingly staring blankly at the ceiling. To the untrained eye it would have appeared that he was sleeping, albeit with his eyes open, but any mage would have recognised the state he was in - he was in a state that lay somewhere between meditation and a trance, something that beginner magicians used to aid themselves in sensing mana on a level not perceived by any of the other jobs classes, as well as making it easier for them to mould it, hence their ability to wield magic unlike anybody else on Bera. Still, as magicians progressed in skill, they used that trance-like state less and less often as it was deemed too slow to be practically applied to training - once mana perception and moulding became second nature to them, they completely abandoned the trance arte in favour of more "fast-and-easy" methods, like the typical grinding method that had been used by magicians long before the Guild War had erupted.

Not very many knew of the applications of using the trance arte once one was well-versed enough in the arcane arts of magic and spellcasting, and even fewer had actually used it. The result of using such an arte when one was skilled enough would be a massive expansion of the user's consciousness as well as their senses, allowing them to sense the mana signature and life force of every living thing within a radius around them that measured in the miles - the precise radius depended completely upon the individual's power level.

In short, the trance arte made its users all but omniscient, and Ryden was completely submerged in it.

His dark brown eyes, vacant and blank, were a direct contrast to the bustle of mental activity in his mind. All around him, he could feel the mana signatures and life forces of the denizens of Kerning City as they went about their daily, or in this case, nightly businesses, but as overwhelming as their numbers were to even the trained mind, Ryden had long since cast his senses past such mundane details.

Instead, he drove his focus towards the very centre of Victoria Island... and once there, dove straight down.

Kilometre after kilometre of solid rock and earth rushed past him as he surged downward, deeper and deeper, and eventually the familiar sensation of rock and earth was replaced by another feeling, this one completely alien and bursting with chaotic energy.

_Tiberium..._ Ryden thought to himself. _I must be getting close..._

Pressing further on, he surged past layer after layer of bedrock, and eventually through layer after layer of massive Tiberium crystals, but still he did not sense what he was searching for. Just as he thought he had the wrong spot, he felt a familiar mana signature - an extremely _familiar _one. It was extremely distant and faint, fluctuating in and out of perception, but it was there.

_There you are..._ Locking his focus onto the faint signature, Ryden pursued it like a bloodhound. As the signature grew stronger and stronger, Ryden felt the fluctuations increase in magnitude as well - it was as though the owner of the signature was casting a spell of epic proportions.

Ryden didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on.

_It's happening... She's doing it._

Almost imperceptibly, despite his blank and nearly dead eyes, the corners of Ryden's mouth turned upwards in a feral grin.

_I've been waiting for this._

_

* * *

_

_I've been waiting for this._ Kain thought to himself as he caressed the blade of his curved longsword again, eyeing the bright red neon sign in front of him; the neon sign that read _Dragon's Redgrave_. What a fitting name for the crusader's agency, taking the name of the legendary beast that the ferocity and tenacity of his father's power had once been likened to. Eventually the whelp _would_ mature into a proverbial dragon himself, but Kain had things to do before that happened. Limiters to place, or in this case...

_Augmenters._

Kain grinned to himself once more, and unclenched his left fist, revealing the pattern of three tomoes arranged inwards in a circular pattern on his palm, each identical to one another.

Raising his right hand, he formed it into a straight palm, and gestured casually at the building with the neon sign before him before he disappeared from sight once more.

* * *

A sudden fluctuation of sinister mana slammed into Ryden like a ton of bricks - reacting instinctively, he withdrew his mental probe all the way back to his own body, and immediately began scanning his surroundings.

The very first thing that registered with him was that the mana aura surrounding his office was a deep, hellish crimson, instead of the usual cool, azure blue that it typically was.

The very first thing that happened was an invisible force ramming straight into his desk, presumably to catch him off guard and off balance.

Unfortunately for whoever the caster was, the spell had been cast a tad too slow.

The crusader reacted. He always _reacted_. There was not even any _think_ to begin with any longer. His body had been here before a thousand of a thousand times over, and it got the job done before his brain could decide if it had anything to say about getting ready for a fight.

Moving automatically in a motion that seemed to have been rehearsed countless times over, Ryden threw himself upwards in a backwards flip, as the spell sent the pizza box, Ebony & Ivory, Ifrit, and the bullet cartridges flying upwards. The desk continued flipping end over end backwards until it hit the very back of the office, and Ryden landed perfectly upon it, perched almost like a predatory cat, with hawk-like eyes immediately surveying the room beyond him. With inhuman speed, his right hand flicked outwards in an almost imperceptible motion, snapping like a snake's lunge, and suddenly he had Ivory locked in his grip, levelled straight in front of him.

But as impressive as his acrobatic display was, the most stark change of all was visible in his eyes - within moments, they had shifted from a blank, empty and dead gaze, to an utterly focused and hardened stare, one forged and tempered by battle, and a feral glint of anticipation was barely visible in the edges of his pupils.

Ifrit, Shiva, and Ebony and all its bullet cartridges clattered all over the floor all around him, but Ryden didn't move a muscle. The crusader spent several moments surveying the room in front of him, the slitted pupils and feral yellow irises of his eyes indicating that he had activated his Draconic Vision and was scanning the room in front of him for any potential threats. Several moments later when it was apparent that nothing else had made an incursion, he let out a breath of relief and stepped off the desk, his eyes returning to normal as he holstered Ivory and raised his left palm upwards, flawlessly catching the pizza box (and its contents) as it fell.

And as the windows and walls all around him in his office began to shatter and crash inwards, revealing all manner of Tiberium-mutated monsters, all slavering and baying for the crusader's blood, the son of the legendary Dracon allowed himself a small grin.

_This_ was how he lived his life, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The blades the monsters carried plunged themselves into his body over and over, and he offered no resistance.

* * *

**Meanwhile, at the _Philadelphia_**...

Rathias Gardner examined the katana that had been offered to him, giving it a quizzical look, as though he had no idea why he was expected to make a connection with such a weapon.

"You expect me to use _this_?" Were the only words the Bowmaster could conjure, his disbelief at the situation he was in nearly locking the words in his throat due to the sheer incredulity of it.

"Rathias," Athena began in a warning tone, "There are several reasons why I'm presenting this katana to you. First of which are diplomatic - if we're going to show the Necropolis Separatists that we trust them and are willing to acept their aid, we'll have to start using the weapons they have given to us out of goodwill. Second of which... You'll see what I mean when you've trained enough on this thing." The bowmistress gestured for him to follow him, and began walking through the winding corridors of GDI's main headquarters.

"'Trained enough'?" Rathias asked, his eyes nearly bugging out as he made to follow her. "Athena, you're giving me a frigging Deathbringer, and I _know_ it takes Agents _decades_ to master this thing to a point where its effectiveness is barely passable! How am I going to-"

Athena raised a hand to silence him, almost as though she knew what he was going to say next. "Rathias, I wouldn't give you this weapon if I didn't have a way of making you capable of using it effectively in time for Operation: Overlord. Now, even as we speak, Grendel has given one to Grace Raizen, Dances with Balrog has bestowed another upon Keiga Seles, and the Dark Lord has granted it to Joseph Stalrigarde as well. We all have a plan for this." Athena didn't even bother correcting the bowmaster on his previous statement - the weapon she was offering was in fact not a Deathbringer - in his disbelieving ignorance, Garnder had chosen to call the katana by the name he knew such a thing by best, rather than as the 'Soul Slayers' or Zanpakutos that the Separatists had so willingly provided them with.

"If you say so, Athena..." Rathias muttered hesitantly, following his mentor down the corridor. "Still, I don't see how I can master this thing on time to-"

The bowmaster's speech ground to a sudden halt as they turned around a corner, to a corridor that Rathias himself had never walked down before; now he knew why.

The sign that he was staring up at in disbelief read '**Hyperbolic Time Chamber**'.

Despite his disbelief, Rathias' lips turned upwards in an excited grin. "Oh, you've got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

"I'm not," Athena replied next to him. "This is the aforementioned plan I spoke of earlier. But before we begin your training, there's one last thing we need to do..."

"Oh really? And what's that?" Rathias turned to face his mentor to see what she meant, and the very last thing that he saw was Athena raising the blade in front of her, running it through the very centre of his being.

* * *

A/N: Ok, Act 2 ends here. I'll get around to producing Act 3 when the inspiration starts flowing again... Or maybe there won't be an Act 3, I'll just skip ahead to producing the next chapter. All depends on how my planning goes... I'm getting a bit lost as to what exactly is supposed to be happening here, I only have a rough idea. Geez, I haven't touched this story for too long...


	23. Chap 21 Act 2: The Blood Link

A/N: Well guys, I updated this particular snippet solo even though I already added it to the previous chapter cos some people may not be able to see it, and also because (when you see the length of this chapter) I decided to be nice and not kill your eyes and brains by making you read so much text in one shot, so make sure you return the favour and REVIEW!

Once I deem chapter 21 complete, I'm going to remove all individual acts and compile them under 'Chapter 21', you can read everything there in case you miss it.

* * *

**Chapter 21, Act 2: The Blood Link**

_"What?!"_

"You heard me Phoenix. We're mounting an offensive on Orbis two days from now. It's time we made the push."

The ranger stared at the Dark Lord incredulously, both in disbelief but simultaneously, relief.

Relief because it was about time that they made the push to Ossyria - but disbelief because they were ridiculously low on manpower. Several hundred of their soldiers were already hospitalized, with a few thousand more already dead. Zeraion didn't know how the Wise Men intended to make a successful offensive with a grossly under-sized army, but as far as he could see this was an attempt that bordered on suicidal. Apparently, all five of his assembled squadmates, Ryden included, shared that sentiment. All of them were staring at the two Wise Men before them with expressions that bordered on incredulous.

"Dark Lord, with respect sir, I think our army is in hardly any condition to be making an offensive." Zeraion tried to protest. "We're already hopelessly outnumbered by the Necropolis garrison on Orbis - not to mention the fleet they most probably have defending that town. Our own fleets are barely ready to fight them, I don't see how-"

"We've already covered that part, Phoenix," The ninja lord reassured him confidently. "You didn't think we were foolish enough to attempt an assault on an enemy fortress with a crippled army, do you?"

Zeraion didn't like the look that the ninja lord was giving him, but Tora, who was standing next to him and apparently felt the same way, expressed his sentiments before the ranger could.

"Don't tell me... you're throwing all of us into the fight." The chief bandit said.

Dances with Balrog nodded an affirmative, but Tora simply scoffed in response.

"There's no way even the six of us all together can make up for the losses that our army has taken." Ascion protested. "Sir, I respect the confidence that you have in us, but this is simply too much!"

"Not to mention that we're leaving our own garrisons vulnerable with all of us away from Victoria Island at the same time," Ark added. "Necropolis might take the chance to stab us in the back if we concentrate too much of our strength in one assault."

"We got that covered as well," Dances with Balrog stated with a confident grin. "Personally."

Zeraion's jaw nearly dropped open, and Ryden smirked. "So I guess we don't have to worry about anything back in Vic then?"

The Dark Lord shook his head, but Ascion was not convinced. "That still doesn't answer my question! How do you intend to make up for our army's losses with just the six of us?"

Dances with Balrog sighed, and looked at the priest with an expression that plainly said _Are you dumb or are you dumb?_

"Major Blade, you're forgetting about the Necropolis Separatists that we took in. While not really making up completely for our lost numbers, their aid in itself will be considerable. And did you really think the six of you are the only trump cards we have?"

* * *

"So... you want me to take part in this assault as well?" Rathias asked Athena slowly.

"Not just you, Rathias - all four of you. Delta Squad will be participating as well. We'll hold the fort here while you, Seles, Raizen and Stalrigarde are away." The bowmistress told him, her expression serious.

Rathias pursed his lips, but he only managed to hold it in for a few seconds - a loud chuckled escaped from his mouth a moment later.

"You've got to be kidding me, Athena. I just got hospitalized, and as much as I want to get back out there as well, it defies common sense to discharge me two days after having surgery on my eye!" The bowmaster said incredulously.

"You do realize what we did, right?" Athena said cautiously.

Gardner sighed, and pressed his hand against the eye patch covering his left eye. "I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Either way, I'd still have been blind in my left eye if you hadn't done anything. As much as I resent you making this decision without my consent... I realise that if I were in your position, I'd have done the same. Better to take a gamble than simply surrender to fate."

"Then I'm glad we understand each other." Athena replied, with a trace of relief in her voice.

"So... what was the result? Am I still blinded in that eye? Why is it covered?" The bowmaster asked.

"It was a narrow save," Athena confessed. "The operation had a 10 percent chance of your body completely accepting the eye, a 30 percent chance of it only partially accepting it... and a 60 percent chance of rejecting it. I'm not surprised that your body failed to completely accept the eye, but I'm thankful that it wasn't a complete waste."

The bowmaster released the breath he had been unconsciously holding. "That's good, then," At least he still had sight in his left eye, though it still didn't answer why it was covered. Apparently Athena wasn't going to answer any more questions about the surgery, so Rathias decided to turn his attention back to the briefing.

"What we transplanted into you should have increased your powers as well, Rathias. You feel it already, don't you?" Grendel finally said. "That's why we're throwing you out into the field so soon after this surgery - we know you've recovered quickly enough."

Taking in what the wizened archmage had said, the bowmaster realized he was right - even for something as simple as moving his arm, his movements already felt stronger, surer. Even his eyesight in his undamaged eye seemed sharper, and if he focused enough, he could make out the exact pattern of the intricate grooves on Grendel's staff - something he knew he wasn't capable of before.

"You will be at full strength in time for the assault, Rathias. Don't worry about the details." Athena reassured him. "Now, we have the battle plan to go over..."

* * *

"Necropolis will undoubtedly lead the defense of their fortress with their battle fleet first, so we will have to deal with that aerial battle first before we can make landfall," Dances with Balrog stated. "General Gardner and General Raizen will lead the fleet's main battleships, while Commander Phoenix and Major Tales lead the snub fighter squadrons. The rest of you will be waiting on the assault barges. Once the Necropolis fleet has been dealt with, our forces will make landfall. You'll find that the procedure will differ little from your old mission at Ellinia."

"3rd Company, our Infiltration Corps, led by Lieutenant Drakeson, will target the power plants first to knock out their defense grid as quickly as possible." The Dark Lord continued for him. "Once that is accomplished, 5th Company, our Heavy Assault Force, led by Captain Wolfen will lead a rush to take out their communications so they can't call for support before the emergency backup generators kick in."

"Simultaneous with 5th Company's assault, 7th, 8th, 4th and 6th Company, our Ranged Support and Spellcaster forces, led by Lieutenants Arklanser and Arundale, as well as Major Blade and Lieutenant Leinharte respectively will target the barracks and the armories to take out as many of their forces before they can fully mobilize. Captain Igzarion will be placed in charge of 9th Company, which will be held in reserve should 7th and 8th Company run into any trouble. Members of 10th Company, our medical corps, while be placed under the command of Captain Iris Shizune, and will be dispersed amongst the other nine companies to keep them in fighting condition."

"Once the barracks and armories have been destroyed," Dances with Balrog said once Dark Lord had finished his lengthy explanation, "1st and 2nd Company, our main and secondary assault force, led by Generals Seles and Stalrigarde, and Colonel Dracon, will lay siege to their Command Centre. Once the Command Centre's outer perimeter has been breached, all Company Leaders are to take a quarter of their men and converge upon the Command Centre. Commander Phoenix and Major Tales are also to take part in the assault. While they are away, General Raizen will have overall command of the aerial fleet."

"One question, sir," Roxi quickly raised a hand. "Do we have any intel on how strong the enemy defense fleet is?"

"Unfortunately, no," The Dark Lord said darkly. "In the wort case scenario, given the strength of the raiding fleets that have been attacking lately, and our own fleet's current strength, they will outnumber us at least five to one."

* * *

"That's insane!" Rathias burst out. "How do you expect us to win with a fleet five times smaller than their own!?"

"Calm down, Gardner," Grendel said forcefully. "The Necropolis Separatists brought along some ships of their own. And they're not just frigates or destroyers - they've managed to bring us ships from the top of their lines. I'm sure a dozen Necropolis cruisers will surely be enough to even the odds for us."

"You also forget, Gardner, that Necropolis grows complacent in their technology and hacks," Athena reminded the bowmaster. "They have become content to let their hacks do the work for them that they rarely get up and do it themselves; basically they've lost grasp of tactics and strategy and have become simple-minded in their battle methods. The only reason we have prevailed so far is that though our equipment is inferior, we let our heads and our minds compensate for that weakness. Tactics, Gardner. If a GDI frigate with smart tactics can stand up to a Necropolis frigate that's not using tactics at all, imagine how devastating a Necropolis cruiser could be with those same tactics applied."

* * *

"That's... completely one-sided," Ryden said with a smirk, leaning against the doorway behind the rest of his squadmates. "Hardly seems fair."

"Don't forget Ryden, Necropolis still has the advantage of numbers," Dances with Balrog said seriously. "The Separatists' help only gives us a chance at evening out the odds, but we'll still have to keep on our toes if we're going to win."

"As I said earlier, the assault is two days from now, so within 48 hours, Operation: Overlord will commence. Take the time to prepare yourselves for the coming battle - it will undoubtedly be one of the hardest GDI has ever gone through so far. Dismissed!" The Dark Lord stated. One by one, the Dead Six filed out of the briefing room, until Ryden was the last one remaining, as though he still had a question.

"You have something to ask us, son of Dracon?" The Dark Lord questioned the crusader, who stood stock still from his position against the doorway.

"You mentioned that I'm in command of 2nd company... but you have _two_ generals in command of 1st company. Why is that so? Is my presence really necessary in this battle?" Ryden asked curiously.

"Of course it is, Ryden," Dances with Balrog stated. "You're the single most powerful individual in this army. Without you, 2nd company's strength will be more than halved, even if General Stalrigarde takes over in your place."

"I'm sure that hermit can handle things," Ryden remarked offhandedly. "I... may have prior commitments."

"_Prior_ commitments?" The Dark Lord asked incredulously. "What commitment could possibly come before this war??"

Ryden's eyes locked with those of the ninja lord, and even the king of thieves, who was allegedly the most hard-hearted of the Four Wise Men, nearly flinched at the crusader's own orbs - dark brown orbs that had once sparkled with life and hope were now all but empty and black, save for the burning fires of the desire for revenge.

"It's a _personal_ matter, Dark Lord. Let's just leave it at that."

Before either of the two wise men could say anything, Ryden turned on his heel and swiftly left the room, leaving the duo standing in shocked silence, and it was several moments before the Dark Lord could get his mouth working.

"He's too much like his father now, Dances. Gods forbid, he may end up exactly like him..."

* * *

**Twelve Hours later...**

Deep within the confines of the caverns, a robed figure sat in the center of a pentagram, legs crossed and hand clasped as if in deep meditation. A sheathed katana lay across the figure's crossed legs, and trembled slightly as the figure murmured words of arcane power over and over again, triggering tiny tremors in the chamber they were in.

Far at the back of the cavernous chamber, yet another robed figure, this one taller than the other, watched the other in complete silence. His stoic poise was a complete contrast to his mental state - he was practically bursting with anticipation. The ceremony was nearing completion - soon, the entire world of Bera would tremble at their feet as they unleashed the power of a thousand demons upon them.

Meanwhile, the one seated in front of him, her robes draped about her svelte figure, intensified her murmurings of the incantations, focusing and channeling all the mana she could spare into the sapphire blue amulet that hung across her neck. Her thoughts were greatly different from her accomplice's; it had been a narrow save, retrieving that amulet - it had been by a stroke of pure, dumb luck that while searching for it, she stumbled upon it as it was worn by one of the POWs that Necropolis had kept as trophy victims from the raid on Last Hope's headquarters oh so long ago. Astella had completely forgotten the name of the POW that she had found it on, but the poor sod had been tortured beyond sanity by her guild superiors that even she felt the need to put the poor bastard out of his misery. What they did to him was so horrible that it made her stomach turn to even think about it, so she instead concentrated on the task at hand whenever she began to think of how she had managed to get the amulet.

As the pentagram she sat within began to glow an infernal red, she quickly changed her set of incantations and began performing hand seals rapidly as well. Abruptly the colour of the pentagram changed from an infernal red to a deep lavender purple, as the mana stored inside the amulet worn across her neck began to flow into the summoning pentagram and merge with the already-existing energy inside the arte.

And as the summoning reached completion, far beneath them, thousands of feet buried beneath the earth, an ancient structure of ungodly proportions began to shift from inside the prison of earth and rock that had confined it for decades. The last time it had been summoned was in a great war that had nearly changed the world, but as fortune would have it, the world produced an unlikely hero that put it down before it could unleash the horrors that it kept confined within, and before that, it had remained untouched for a millenia. Astella didn't need to be a history genius to know that the aforementioned "unlikely hero" was Ryden's father, Dracon, but this time...

This time, there would be no "unlikely hero" to put the tower down. Astella was _expecting_ Ryden to turn up, and when he did... she would take his half of the amulet, complete it, and claim the power of Dracon's sword.

Ryden didn't go _anywhere_ without the Force Edge, even if he hardly used it. Astella knew her former lover well enough that she had everything planned out in a manner that she knew everything would proceed smoothly once the first steps were taken. Once the tower was raised, nothing would stop her.

Absolutely nothing.

* * *

Miles away, at the very same moment, deep within the confines of Necropolis' Citadel, hidden away inside the blasted, Tiberium-devastated wasteland that used to be Omega Sector, a figure seated inside a vast chamber exactly mirrored Astella's movements. As the distant priestess set a delicate hand on the hilt of the katana that rested on her crossed legs, the figure did exactly the same to the hilt of the sleek, silver longsword that lay across his own lap. As the priestess rose to her feet, the figure did exactly the same, mirroring her movements perfectly. And as they both straightened simultaneously, the figure opened his eyes, while Astella's remained closed.

_Yes... This is perfect._

What little light in the chamber only illuminated his silhouette, and the familiar bald head of Necropolis' Guildmaster was immediately apparent. Hidden by the darkness, his lips peeled back in a savage grin - the anticipatory grin of a predator that had succeeded in cornering a prey that was completely unaware of its presence.

_The priestess played her part out perfectly... If I'd known it was going to be this easy, I wouldn't have bothered with all the subtleties. And now, all that is left is the son of Dracon..._

Slowly raising his curved longsword to his face, Kain softly caressed the blade with his fingers, grinning sinisterly in anticipation. Smoothly sheathing the blade into the scabbard that rested on his waist, his hand stopped covering the hilt just long enough for the name _Tsurugi no Kusanagi_ to be seen carved onto it, in smooth cursive letters.

Then, as abruptly as the carving was revealed, Kain disappeared from the chamber.

* * *

And within the bustling streets of Kerning city, nestled comfortable in his office chair, Ryden sat at the desk of his agency's office, the _Dragon's Redgrave_, staring up at the ceiling blankly. A half-eaten pizza lay within its open box on his desk, right next to his propped-up, booted feet, and his twin pistols, Ebony & Ivory, lay across his lap, on the smooth, black leather of the pants that he was wearing. His upper body's powerful physique, ripped and lean, lay exposed to the chilly, air-conditioned office air, and from his neck dangled his mother's amulet, the ruby glittering under the office's dim flourescent lights, the metal of the chain cool against his skin.

Ebony & Ivory had come a long way from the claws that they were once originally forged as - constantly tinkered with and upgraded until they both resembled and rivalled Omega Sector's infamous Desert Eagle Handguns, Ryden _knew_ that they were the only guns of their kind in Bera (at least, for the moment). They had even progressed from using regular stars to an entirely different ammunition type, not even the bullets that Omega Sector's firearms used. Omega Sector's Desert Eagle handguns had two variants - one that used a calibre coded as .45 ACP, and was used widely as a standard sidearm by Omega's Peacekeeper forces, their standard soldiers, and a larger, more powerful calibre that usually wet the pants of whoever went up against Omega's Enforcers squadron, their elite regiment, whenever they heard its code: .357 MAGNUM. Of course, both of those calibres, and the Desert Eagle variants that used them, had long since been destroyed ever since the Tiberium nukes had landed. Omega Sector had been long declared a Red Zone, and all of Omega Sector's weapons were probably either destroyed or raided and laid claim to by Necropolis by now.

Still, that didn't stop Ryden from innovating. With a few hundred rounds he had managed to scavenge from odds and ends that GDI expeditionary trips had managed to recover from trips to Yellow Zones, the very same tinkering that he did to Ebony & Ivory and transformed them into the pistols they were now resulted in producing their very own ammunition type as well - in homage to the .357 MAGNUM calibre, that Ryden had heard had enough kick to stop even a Lycanthrope in its tracks, he had named the new calibre he had created .50 AE, or as he always referred to lovingly as "Fifty Cal Action Express".

Nobody ever bothered to remember their full names, but they had become damn near legendary in GDI's army for their stopping power. Eight golden cartridges, each chocked full of six of those rounds, lay stacked on Ryden's desk next to the open pizza box, and just one cartridge's worth of bullets would be enough to literally drop three Crimson Balrogs. He was the only one on the planet who knew how to make this calibre of rounds, and as such he was the only wielder of it.

The rest of Ryden's arsenal had not changed much, though some of the weapons he had originally forged during his initial training as an Agent had phased out into obsoleteness. The Kalina Ann and Spiral had been lying in his agency's storeroom, unused and collecting dust for months already, but Ryden had no intention of breaking them out of storage. Ifrit lay smouldering on his desk to his right while Shiva sat at the foot of the table, still frigid and frosted over. Alastor, sealed into its katana form, lay against the table to his left where he could grab it at a moment's notice, but despite all the weapons that were stacked around him, Ryden didn't make any moves to take hold of any of them.

Instead, he lay stock still, leaning back in his chair, seemingly staring blankly at the ceiling. To the untrained eye it would have appeared that he was sleeping, albeit with his eyes open, but any mage would have recognised the state he was in - he was in a state that lay somewhere between meditation and a trance, something that beginner magicians used to aid themselves in sensing mana on a level not perceived by any of the other jobs classes, as well as making it easier for them to mould it, hence their ability to wield magic unlike anybody else on Bera. Still, as magicians progressed in skill, they used that trance-like state less and less often as it was deemed too slow to be practically applied to training - once mana perception and moulding became second nature to them, they completely abandoned the trance arte in favour of more "fast-and-easy" methods, like the typical grinding method that had been used by magicians long before the Guild War had erupted.

Not very many knew of the applications of using the trance arte once one was well-versed enough in the arcane arts of magic and spellcasting, and even fewer had actually used it. The result of using such an arte when one was skilled enough would be a massive expansion of the user's consciousness as well as their senses, allowing them to sense the mana signature and life force of every living thing within a radius around them that measured in the miles - the precise radius depended completely upon the individual's power level.

In short, the trance arte made its users all but omniscient, and Ryden was completely submerged in it.

His dark brown eyes, vacant and blank, were a direct contrast to the bustle of mental activity in his mind. All around him, he could feel the mana signatures and life forces of the denizens of Kerning City as they went about their daily, or in this case, nightly businesses, but as overwhelming as their numbers were to even the trained mind, Ryden had long since cast his senses past such mundane details.

Instead, he drove his focus towards the very centre of Victoria Island... and once there, dove straight down.

Kilometre after kilometre of solid rock and earth rushed past him as he surged downward, deeper and deeper, and eventually the familiar sensation of rock and earth was replaced by another feeling, this one completely alien and bursting with chaotic energy.

_Tiberium..._ Ryden thought to himself. _I must be getting close..._

Pressing further on, he surged past layer after layer of bedrock, and eventually through layer after layer of massive Tiberium crystals, but still he did not sense what he was searching for. Just as he thought he had the wrong spot, he felt a familiar mana signature - an extremely _familiar _one. It was extremely distant and faint, fluctuating in and out of perception, but it was there.

_There you are..._ Locking his focus onto the faint signature, Ryden pursued it like a bloodhound. As the signature grew stronger and stronger, Ryden felt the fluctuations increase in magnitude as well - it was as though the owner of the signature was casting a spell of epic proportions.

Ryden didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on.

_It's happening... She's doing it._

Almost imperceptibly, despite his blank and nearly dead eyes, the corners of Ryden's mouth turned upwards in a feral grin.

_I've been waiting for this._

_

* * *

_

_I've been waiting for this._ Kain thought to himself as he caressed the blade of his curved longsword again, eyeing the bright red neon sign in front of him; the neon sign that read _Dragon's Redgrave_. What a fitting name for the crusader's agency, taking the name of the legendary beast that the ferocity and tenacity of his father's power had once been likened to. Eventually the whelp _would_ mature into a proverbial dragon himself, but Kain had things to do before that happened. Limiters to place, or in this case...

_Augmenters._

Kain grinned to himself once more, and unclenched his left fist, revealing the pattern of three tomoes arranged inwards in a circular pattern on his palm, each identical to one another.

Raising his right hand, he formed it into a straight palm, and gestured casually at the building with the neon sign before him before he disappeared from sight once more.

* * *

A sudden fluctuation of sinister mana slammed into Ryden like a ton of bricks - reacting instinctively, he withdrew his mental probe all the way back to his own body, and immediately began scanning his surroundings.

The very first thing that registered with him was that the mana aura surrounding his office was a deep, hellish crimson, instead of the usual cool, azure blue that it typically was.

The very first thing that happened was an invisible force ramming straight into his desk, presumably to catch him off guard and off balance.

Unfortunately for whoever the caster was, the spell had been cast a tad too slow.

The crusader reacted. He always _reacted_. There was not even any _think_ to begin with any longer. His body had been here before a thousand of a thousand times over, and it got the job done before his brain could decide if it had anything to say about getting ready for a fight.

Moving automatically in a motion that seemed to have been rehearsed countless times over, Ryden threw himself upwards in a backwards flip, as the spell sent the pizza box, Ebony & Ivory, Ifrit, and the bullet cartridges flying upwards. The desk continued flipping end over end backwards until it hit the very back of the office, and Ryden landed perfectly upon it, perched almost like a predatory cat, with hawk-like eyes immediately surveying the room beyond him. With inhuman speed, his right hand flicked outwards in an almost imperceptible motion, snapping like a snake's lunge, and suddenly he had Ivory locked in his grip, levelled straight in front of him.

But as impressive as his acrobatic display was, the most stark change of all was visible in his eyes - within moments, they had shifted from a blank, empty and dead gaze, to an utterly focused and hardened stare, one forged and tempered by battle, and a feral glint of anticipation was barely visible in the edges of his pupils.

Ifrit, Shiva, and Ebony and all its bullet cartridges clattered all over the floor all around him, but Ryden didn't move a muscle. The crusader spent several moments surveying the room in front of him, the slitted pupils and feral yellow irises of his eyes indicating that he had activated his Draconic Vision and was scanning the room in front of him for any potential threats. Several moments later when it was apparent that nothing else had made an incursion, he let out a breath of relief and stepped off the desk, his eyes returning to normal as he holstered Ivory and raised his left palm upwards, flawlessly catching the pizza box (and its contents) as it fell.

And as the windows and walls all around him in his office began to shatter and crash inwards, revealing all manner of Tiberium-mutated monsters, all slavering and baying for the crusader's blood, the son of the legendary Dracon allowed himself a small grin.

_This_ was how he lived his life, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The blades the monsters carried plunged themselves into his body over and over, and he offered no resistance.

* * *

**Meanwhile, at the _Philadelphia_**...

Rathias Gardner examined the katana that had been offered to him, giving it a quizzical look, as though he had no idea why he was expected to make a connection with such a weapon.

"You expect me to use _this_?" Were the only words the Bowmaster could conjure, his disbelief at the situation he was in nearly locking the words in his throat due to the sheer incredulity of it.

"Rathias," Athena began in a warning tone, "There are several reasons why I'm presenting this katana to you. First of which are diplomatic - if we're going to show the Necropolis Separatists that we trust them and are willing to acept their aid, we'll have to start using the weapons they have given to us out of goodwill. Second of which... You'll see what I mean when you've trained enough on this thing." The bowmistress gestured for him to follow him, and began walking through the winding corridors of GDI's main headquarters.

"'Trained enough'?" Rathias asked, his eyes nearly bugging out as he made to follow her. "Athena, you're giving me a frigging Deathbringer, and I _know_ it takes Agents _decades_ to master this thing to a point where its effectiveness is barely passable! How am I going to-"

Athena raised a hand to silence him, almost as though she knew what he was going to say next. "Rathias, I wouldn't give you this weapon if I didn't have a way of making you capable of using it effectively in time for Operation: Overlord. Now, even as we speak, Grendel has given one to Grace Raizen, Dances with Balrog has bestowed another upon Keiga Seles, and the Dark Lord has granted it to Joseph Stalrigarde as well. We all have a plan for this." Athena didn't even bother correcting the bowmaster on his previous statement - the weapon she was offering was in fact not a Deathbringer - in his disbelieving ignorance, Garnder had chosen to call the katana by the name he knew such a thing by best, rather than as the 'Soul Slayers' or Zanpakutos that the Separatists had so willingly provided them with.

"If you say so, Athena..." Rathias muttered hesitantly, following his mentor down the corridor. "Still, I don't see how I can master this thing on time to-"

The bowmaster's speech ground to a sudden halt as they turned around a corner, to a corridor that Rathias himself had never walked down before; now he knew why.

The sign that he was staring up at in disbelief read '**Hyperbolic Time Chamber**'.

Despite his disbelief, Rathias' lips turned upwards in an excited grin. "Oh, you've got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

"I'm not," Athena replied next to him. "This is the aforementioned plan I spoke of earlier. But before we begin your training, there's one last thing we need to do..."

"Oh really? And what's that?" Rathias turned to face his mentor to see what she meant, and the very last thing that he saw was Athena raising the blade in front of her, running it through the very centre of his being.

* * *

A/N: Ok, Act 2 ends here. I'll get around to producing Act 3 when the inspiration starts flowing again... Or maybe there won't be an Act 3, I'll just skip ahead to producing the next chapter. All depends on how my planning goes... I'm getting a bit lost as to what exactly is supposed to be happening here, I only have a rough idea. Geez, I haven't touched this story for too long...


End file.
